


Hardboiled

by Fawn_Eyed_Girl



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood and Violence, Consensual Sex, Corporate Espionage, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Private Investigators, Slow Burn, artist-writer collaboration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawn_Eyed_Girl/pseuds/Fawn_Eyed_Girl
Summary: When Taisho Toga walked into Fujimura Izayoi’s PI office one fateful day in November, she never guessed the job he had for her would turn into a race to protect his life...and her own. Or that she would fall for him so hard. A hardboiled detective Inuparents story.Featuring commissioned art byclementinesgulag
Relationships: Inu no Taishou/Izayoi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 23
Collections: Inu Parents Day 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, or any of characters from the manga and/or anime.
> 
> Hello everyone, I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and doing well.
> 
> Welcome to my contribution to [Inuparents Day 2021](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/InuParentsDay2021)! I am so happy to bring you this multichapter fic that was heavily inspired by film noir!
> 
> I'd like to offer up a special thanks to the people who read this story and gave me careful feedback along the way: [NeutronStarChild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeutronStarChild), [Ruddcatha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruddcatha), [hopidoodle](https://hopidoodle.tumblr.com/), [thornedraven](https://thornedraven.tumblr.com/), and [kalcia](https://kalcia.tumblr.com/). And extra thanks to [gribedli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gribedli), for helping me brainstorm and being another awesome reader of this story!

The office was eerily quiet for late afternoon on a Tuesday. Normally, Fujimura Izayoi would be busy taking notes, talking into her dictaphone, going over her schedule with Myoga, her secretary, but today? She sat in her office chair, leaning back, her high-heel-clad feet crossed and resting on the desk, papers and files and photos strewn about, one hand delicately balancing a case file, while the other rifled through her notes and the photographs she’d taken.

Izayoi sighed, and looked around the room, her eyes coming to rest on her “thinking wall.” The wall she kept covered in photos, articles, maps...whichever case was giving her the most trouble. She would lay everything out on that wall, take a step back, and think, and put up strings that connect points on a map with photos, notes...whatever she needed. 

The case she was working on? One such challenging case. A runaway ookami teen, who the police had given up looking for, but who her parents just _knew_ had to be hiding out somewhere in the city, with friends, or...or worse. Izayoi had been through countless interviews with the people one Akami Ayame had been in contact with before her disappearance, but the leads were limited. She had discovered that Ayame had been withdrawing money from a bank account she’d set up (with her parents’ help) over the weeks leading to her disappearance; Izayoi suspected that either Ayame had been planning to run away for awhile, or, she had been blackmailed by someone, and she was actually withdrawing hush money to keep her blackmailer happy. Either way, it was hard to say _what_ had happened to Ayame at this point, and Izayoi needed to regroup and rethink her approach. 

Izayoi swung her long legs over the side of her desk and brought them to rest on the floor, her heels clacking against the hardwood. She pulled herself to standing, and smoothed out the front of her gently pleated pants. She strode over to her thinking wall, peering hard at what was already up there, reviewing what she knew:

 _Monday, October 20_ : Ayame withdraws one million yen from her bank account, and apparently produces a letter of permission that her mother swears she never signed. 

_Tuesday, October 21_ : Ayame attends school, but skips cram school afterwards; a friend runs into her at an arcade, where she is playing a dance game with a tall ookami boy with a long ponytail. The ookami boy has also disappeared, and Izayoi is pretty sure that wherever Ayame is, she’s with that boy (for better or for worse).

 _Wednesday, October 22_ : Ayame attends school, goes to cram school, and then hangs out for a bit with Tanaka Eri and Yamagashi Yuka, two of her friends from school. She goes home, and goes to bed early.

 _Thursday, October 23_ : Ayame doesn’t make it to school, and her parents realize that her bed wasn’t slept in. They call the police.

It was now mid-November, and Ayame had been missing for nearly a month. All the posters, all the hotlines in the world were not making a difference. So Ayame’s parents had gotten desperate and contacted Izayoi, one of the top private eyes in Tokyo (even though she was only a human). Her first step had been to establish a paper trail, but the money Ayame had withdrawn from her bank account made it almost impossible for Izayoi to track her that way. She was currently pursuing the ookami boy Ayame had been seen with before her disappearance, but so far, no one was talking. 

Izayoi let out a low growl as she stared at her board. She needed another point of view.

“Oi, Myoga!” she called out to her secretary. “Can you come in here? I want to get your opinion on the Akami case.”

The door to her office opened, and a small, amiable-looking youkai poked his head through. “Hey there, Izayoi-san,” he said, “no time for that now. Your 4:00 is here.”

“Huh?” Izayoi was...confused. Her 4:00?

“Myoga,” she said, “I don’t _have_ a 4:00.”

“You do now.” A deep, rumbling voice sounded from somewhere behind Myoga; the flea youkai stepped out of the way and suddenly, her doorway was filled with a tall, handsome man (like he actually took up the entire doorway) with long silver hair and beautiful blue facial markings. _A youkai_ , Izayoi immediately thought.

[ ](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/post/640514975518081024/happy-inuparentsday-a-sexy-sexy-two-parter)

Commissioned Artwork by [clementinesgulag](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/)

* * *

The man strode into her office as though _he_ were the proprietor, not her, and immediately, her hackles were raised, despite the fact that he basically oozed sex appeal. He looked around, amused, which made her scoff, but when his intense golden eyes settled back on her, she felt her heart nearly stop. 

“And just who might you be?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back (carefully, okay?) against her thinking wall.

The man came closer to her and bowed respectfully. “Taisho Toga,” he introduced himself, “of Taisho Shipping Industries. I’m in need of a private investigator.”

Izayoi internally gasped, because she had _of course_ heard of his company, and if he shared a last name with the company, then he must be…

Instead of fangirling, Izayoi merely (hopefully, anyway) nodded her head. “Fujimura Izayoi,” she said, “of Fujimura Investigation Services.”

Taisho Toga regarded her closely, and she felt like she should cover her breasts or something, because he was staring at her so hard. “Fuijmura, huh?” he said thoughtfully. “Noble blood?”

Izayoi shrugged. “Maybe somewhere along the line?” she replied. She pointed at the chair on the far side of the desk. “Shall we sit down and you can tell me why you believe you need to hire a PI?”

Toga went over to the chair and sat down, crossing his long legs easily. Izayoi tried not to stare, but he filled the entire chair with his tall, muscular form, apparent even through the gray flannel suit that he wore. Izayoi sat behind her desk, and fought off her embarrassment at the absolute _mess_ that this handsome stranger had found her office in.

Toga waited for Izayoi to settle herself, and then he began to tell her his story.

“I would assume, Fujimura-san—”

“Izayoi, Taisho-san,” Izayoi said, “please.”

His face settled into a smile, and Izayoi realized he was even more handsome when he smiled. The way that his eyes crinkled up, and the brightness that came into them…

 _Get it together, girl_ , Izayoi told herself. 

“Toga, then, please, Izayoi-san,” _Toga_ said. She gave him a brief nod and a smile, and again when he smiled back, she definitely felt her heart give a tiny flutter.

“I would assume, Izayoi-san,” Toga began again, “that you have heard of my company?”

Izayoi nodded. “Who hasn’t, Toga-san?” she asked him.

He chuckled, and it was deep, like his voice, and was _hitting places_ in Izayoi’s soul. “Point taken, Izayoi-san,” he agreed. “I don’t know how much of my personal life you know, but I am married to Miyazawa Inukimi of the Miyazawa Tea Company.”

Izayoi nodded again. She didn’t know he was married to Miyazawa Inukimi, but she definitely knew the name of the company, and again, if his wife had the same last name as the company…

“It was an arranged marriage,” Toga told her, his eyes growing slightly misty, “geared to help both family companies. A tea importer, married to a shipping magnate? Both of whom happen to be inu youkai? A youkai marriage made in heaven, no?” When Izayoi merely raised an eyebrow at him, Toga sighed. “The marriage is amiable, Izayoi-san,” he continued. “We have one son, Sesshomaru, who is still a pup, but in human appearance, you would consider him a young man.” He paused. “All seems well, correct?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, as though daring her to challenge him.

Izayoi thought carefully. Arranged marriage to enhance family business, _and_ called “amiable?” One child? Something wasn’t right.

“Is she cheating on you, Toga-san?” Izayoi asked carefully, trying not to offend him.

Toga broke out into a sad smile. “I was told that you’re the best, Izayoi-san,” he replied. “And it seems you have earned your reputation.” He leaned forward on the desk, and rested his head in his hands. “Yes,” he said into his chest, “I think my wife is having an affair.”

Izayoi was quiet for a moment. She was human, but her line of work led her to be pretty knowledgeable about youkai ways. She knew that even if youkai were married, but not mated (which was a life union, and different from marriage, which was a government union), they were still fiercely loyal to their spouse. She had heard of some cases where, if a married youkai found their mate, they would invite the mate into their home (and sometimes both spouses would do this, if they both found their mates), in order to maintain their commitment to their original spouse. Polyamory was definitely not out of the ordinary for youkai; however, if Toga’s wife _was_ having an affair, this was an affront to the commitment he had made to her, and no wonder he was here, talking to Izayoi, looking for help.

The thought of this stunning man with the incredible voice sounding so sad, so defeated...it made Izayoi want to put her arms around him and protect him from the world, and it made her want to _do things_ to his wife. Bad, bad things. But, _I’m a professional_ , Izayoi told herself in her efforts to restrain her actions and her thoughts.

She could not help, however, reaching forward and patting his arm sympathetically.

“I’m...I’m very sorry to hear that,” Izayoi said, her hand now squeezing his forearm lightly. She was impressed with the girth of the muscle beneath his suit jacket sleeve. “What...what can you tell me?” She let go of his arm (reluctantly) to open her desk drawer. She took out a notebook, and a pen, and sat straight up in her chair, poised and ready to take notes on whatever Toga was going to tell her.

[ ](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/post/640514975518081024/happy-inuparentsday-a-sexy-sexy-two-parter)

Commissioned Artwork by [clementinesgulag](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/%20rel=)

* * *

Toga, too, seemingly comforted by Izayoi’s sympathy, sat up in his chair and leaned back, his arms crossed, his face solemn. “For several weeks now,” he began, “I have been suspecting that my wife is having an affair with Shiroi Ryukotsusei, a dragon youkai…”

“And founder and CEO of Shiroi Airlines,” Izayoi added.

“Yes,” Toga affirmed, surprised. “And, while our marriage isn’t great—it’s basically for convenience at this point—youkai don’t like to be shown up once they’re married.”

“Could Ryukotsusei be her mate?” Izayoi asked.

“You know about mating?” Toga asked her, surprised. 

Izayoi nodded. “I’m a PI,” she said. “It’s my job to know everything.”

Toga’s laugh was booming and Izayoi _loved_ it. “Good point, Izayoi-san,” he said. “And to answer your question: no. There’s no need to hide one’s mate from one’s spouse. Youkai are quite used to having spouses _and_ mates, so there’s not as much stigma there as there might be with humans.”

Izayoi hummed an agreement. “So why do you think that your wife is having an affair?”

Toga frowned. “She is gone a lot more than she used to be. She doesn’t return phone calls. She comes home and sometimes she smells like him. She has been ignoring our son, and until recently she doted on him.”  
  
“And why Ryukotsusei?” Izayoi was jotting down notes and ideas already in an effort to begin to put the case together.

Toga frowned. “My company has dealings with Ryukotsusei’s business about shipping and air travel. We’ve been debating whether or not to use them as a way to improve our transportation of goods. Right now we largely rely on ground and water transportation; that’s where most of our efforts have gone in terms of our investments. But adding air transportation would give us a leg up. So Ryukotsusei has been to our home on numerous occasions; we have dined with him publicly; we have attended gatherings and galas where he has been. And I’ve noticed Inukimi paying extra attention to Ryukotsusei; there have also been several instances where they were both missing from an event. Put it all together…”

“And I smell an affair,” Izayoi said.

“Right,” Toga nodded. 

“So what would you like me to do?” Izayoi _always_ asked that of people wanting her to investigate an affair. In each case, she always had her own plans on how to proceed, but it was helpful to hear from the client (and more than once, she’d had to tell a client that no, she does not “kill” the people spouses have affairs with...just expose them). 

“Follow my wife,” Toga said. “Find out where she’s going; find out who she’s seeing. Get proof of the affair. If she is, in fact, carrying on with Ryukotsusei, I want to know, so I can expose them both and divorce her. She has produced an heir for me, and I have no desire to be married to an unfaithful woman.” He paused. “Is this something that you can do?”

“Absolutely,” Izayoi assured him.

“Excellent.” Toga rose. “I will offer you two million yen for the completion of this job. I will pay you one million now, for your efforts, and the other million you will get when you have something of substance to show me—either way. I need to know if she’s having an affair or not. If you find not, I will be happy with that. If you find yes, I will be…” he clenched his fists and took several deep breaths “...I will be glad of the knowledge.” He closed his eyes, opened them, and looked down at Izayoi, who was still seated at her desk. “What do you think?” he said. “Will you take the job?”

Izayoi thought for a moment. This would be a tough job, and high-profile. She was used to little investigations, like the one she was doing now, for the Akami family. But, this was more money than she made in six months, so who was she to say no? And surely she could handle this job _and_ the Akami family job, right?

Izayoi rose, and bowed. “Toga-san,” she said, “I am happy to take this job for you.”

He smiled grimly. “Excellent,” he said. “I will make the financial arrangements with your secretary, then.”

“Thank you, Toga-san,” Izayoi said. “But before you go, we need to discuss your wife in more detail.”

Toga sat back down, and considered her with interest. “What would you like to know about my wife, Izayoi-san?” he asked. “Other than what I have already told you?”

Izayoi’s pen sat poised over her paper. “I need to know everything,” she said. “What’s her daily schedule like? Where does she go, and when, and for how long? Who does she see, and why? Are there chunks of unaccounted-for time?” She looked up at him intently. “I need to know all the ins and outs of your wife’s life, Toga-san,” she said seriously. “You need to give me as much information as you can, so I have something to go on.”

Toga sighed, and sat back down in the chair. “Okay,” he said. He tapped his forehead, deep in thought. “She usually leaves the house around 10,” he said, “after breakfast and her daily beauty ritual. She used to take a driver, but more often than not now she either drives herself or takes public transit, which I wish she wouldn’t do, but I’m not often around to see her leave.” He looked at Izayoi. “I’m usually gone by 8 to make it to the office by 9. I’m there until at least 7 or 8 at night, and when I get back, she’s already home. Everything I know about her day is what she tells me, or what the staff tells me.” He paused. “That’s why I need you, Izayoi-san. The more I have thought about this, the more I realized: I don’t know why my wife is doing all day long. And apparently? I really, really, need to know.” He stared at Izayoi, hard; she looked up from her note-taking to look back at him. “You will need my address,” he said. “I think it’s best for you to follow her from the house, from the time she leaves, take note of what she does all day, and report back to me. Yes,” he added, “I think that’s the best way for us to start.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a card holder, and took out a meishi. 

“A pen, if you please?” he asked her. Izayoi handed over her pen, and Toga wrote on the meishi. He clicked the pen, gave it back to her, and then handed her his meishi. Izayoi bowed her head, accepted, and read it over. The card had his name, title, company, and phone number. She saw that he had also added an address—his home address, she presumed, and an additional phone number.

“That number is my private line,” Toga said. “I am the only one who has access to that number. You can call it anytime, day or night; if I am home, I will answer. Otherwise, you can always reach me at the office.”

“I prefer to do face-to-face meetings, Toga-san,” Izayoi said, “but I appreciate this information, in case there’s an emergency.” She opened her desk drawer again, fumbled around a bit, pulled out her own meishi, bowed again, and handed it to him with both hands, as was the custom. He accepted with a bow of his head, rose, reviewed the card, and put it into his own meshi holder, a slight smile playing across his lips. 

“Thank you for this, Izayoi-san,” Toga said. “I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, I expect you to begin work promptly.” He rose, bowed once more, then turned to leave.

“I’ll start work on this tomorrow, Toga-san,” Izayoi called after him. He paused at the door and turned back to face her; his golden eyes were ablaze, like pools of lava. Izayoi shivered. “And don’t worry,” she added, her damn comforting instincts coming to a head again. “We’ll find out what’s going on with your wife.”

Toga nodded once, a grim smile on his handsome face, and opened the door. Izayoi heard Myoga squeak, “Taisho-sama, thank you for visiting us,” and then she heard the outer office door open and shut.

Izayoi leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. This case was gonna be a clusterfuck; she just knew it. Tomorrow, she would start working on the Miyazawa Inukimi case, and keep working on the Akami case, but for now?...

“Oi, Myoga!” Izayoi called. Myoga stuck his head in the doorway. Izayoi sighed. “Better order us some takeout, Myoga. And I’ll need to pick your brain...we have to put together a profile on Miyazawa Inukimi...and one on Taisho Toga, too.”

Myoga’s bug eyes grew even wider and rounder, but he set his jaw firmly and nodded once. 

“I’ll call for dinner,” he said, “and then...yes. Let’s talk.” 

He disappeared back into the lobby, and Izayoi heard him on the phone almost immediately, ordering the takeout. She sighed, and looked down at her notes. 

The first place to begin, she decided, was to follow Miyazawa Inukimi on her daily adventures. Learn where she went, and for how long, and who she talked. Izayoi needed to learn all that she could, in order to determine if Inukimi was being duplicitous.

And if she was...if she was cheating on that tall and delicious snack that had just graced her office?

Well...Inukimi might be a youkai, but she would still have to answer to Izayoi. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izayoi begins to follow Inukimi, and is surprised at what she finds. Later, she reports back to Toga.

Promptly at 9am the next morning, Izayoi was stationed outside of the Taisho estate, a large house in Minato-ku that had obviously been in Toga’s family for years. The property was surrounded by a large stone fence, so it was difficult for Izayoi to see much past the gate. But she waited, scent blocking pills taken, camera around her neck, notebook in hand, ready to record the exact time that Inukimi left the estate. 

She and Myoga had worked through dinner putting together Inukimi and Toga’s profiles, and then Izayoi had continued her investigation into the missing Akami girl. She had gone back to the arcade where Ayame had been seen with the ookami boy, and finally gotten a name: Koga. It was only a first name, but it was something to go on, and tonight, after she spent the day following Inukimi around, she planned to go back to the arcade and do more digging. But that would come later, because right now? 

She had an inu youkai to follow.

As Izayoi waited, she couldn’t help but allow her thoughts to be swept away by Toga. He was easily the most imposing man she’d ever seen, but she’d also sensed that he was a gentle person: kind, and generous with his time. He seemed genuinely upset that his wife might possibly be unfaithful, even if he wasn’t necessarily in love with her. And that made him all the more attractive to her, made her want to... _help him_...more than any of her clients who’d come before him.

And then, the great stone and wood gate to the estate opened, and Izayoi snapped to attention. Sure enough, a tall, willowy woman with long silver hair exited the gate, and Izayoi watched as she walked in the direction of the train. Izayoi snapped a couple of photos, noted the time, and took off after Inukimi at a leisurely pace, keeping a constant eye on her, but also managing to look nondescript.

The Hamamatsuchō train station was about a ten minute walk from the Taisho estate. It wasn’t quite as busy as it would be at peak rush hour, but it was still challenging to keep an eye on Inukimi, who walked with a swift purpose behind every step. Inukimi’s clothes were casual: beige pleated pants, a navy blouse with a tie, and heeled shoes, but luckily her long silver hair made it easy for Izayoi to track her. Inukimi stopped to buy a train ticket, then went through the turnstiles. Izayoi gave her a moment, then slipped through the gate after her, using her monthly train pass. She tracked Inukimi to the train heading for Toshima-ku, and Izayoi hung out on the platform, pretending to take in the architecture, while they waited for the train to roll into the station. Inukimi wandered down to one end of the train, and got on, and Izayoi followed, maintaining a safe distance, but still close enough that if Inukimi got off the train suddenly, she’d be able to follow. 

The train doors closed, and as the train pulled away from the station, Izayoi watched as Inukimi pulled a book from her bag and started to read. Izayoi sighed, rolled her eyes, and sank down onto a train seat, her eyes focused the entire time on Inukimi. She tried hard to keep her eyes open, but it had been a long night, and the train’s lull was soothing, and soon enough Izayoi was dozing.

The announcer’s voice blared through the speaker system, announcing they had reached Ikebukuro Station. Izayoi’s eyes snapped open, and she jumped to her feet as she saw Inukimi getting off the train. Izayoi rushed to follow her, and only barely managed to keep a safe distance. She saw Inukimi walking down the street, away from the station, and then she made a sudden left and Izayoi had to jog in order to keep up. Inukimi bypassed shops, restaurants, and other small businesses, and the further she walked, the more run-down the buildings became. Finally, Inukimi hung another left, and Izayoi saw her heading into a large, ordinary warehouse. Izayoi paused and hid behind a dumpster, quickly snapping photos as she saw Inukimi tug open the door, look around, and then slip inside, the door slamming shut behind her. 

Izayoi dropped back behind the dumpster, trying to get her breathing under control. She’d followed Inukimi to a...warehouse? What was she doing there? Izayoi wanted to get close, but for today, she would simply watch, observe, see what the building looked like. Tomorrow, she’d see if Inukimi came back (she suspected that she would), and then begin to map out the warehouse. For now? She would simply watch, and chart her time in, and out, and take photographs. 

A _lot_ of photographs.

Using her best lens, Izayoi peered around the corner of the dumpster, and zoomed in on the property. One entrance in (from this angle, anyway); windows with bars, and solid concrete walls. Alleyways on either side of the building suggested the possibility of other entrances. Izayoi sighed. She was nervous about leaving the front—not until she got a better read on how long Inukimi would be in there. 

So, Izayoi took as many pictures as she could, then settled down, and waited for Inukimi to come out.

* * *

Three hours later, Izayoi heard the door to the warehouse slide open, and she jumped to her feet and peeked out from behind the dumpster. She saw Inukimi leaving the warehouse, and she shot a couple quick pictures before she heard Inukimi’s heels clicking her way. Izayoi slipped around the other side of the dumpster, and hid as Inukimi walked past her. Izayoi gave her a moment, then followed after the inu youkai. Inukimi turned back the way that she came, but this time, she meandered slowly along the street, popping into shops along the way. Izayoi snapped photos of each storefront Inukimi went into. Bookstore, flower shop, convenience store...each time Inukimi went into a store, she came out with another bag. In the bookstore, Izayoi saw her pick up a copy of _Kokoro_ and the manga _Norakuro_ ( _appropriate_ , Izayoi thought). In the flower shop, she bought a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tsubaki. Then, at the convenience store, Izayoi managed to photograph Inukimi picking up containers of donburi, tonkatsu, and yakisoba. 

And so it went on, from shop to shop, Inukimi continued to purchase items until her arms were full of bags. Finally, at last, she went to a public pay phone, put in some coins, and spoke for several minutes. She hung up, sighed, and kept walking, Izayoi following her, somewhat confused. 

A few blocks from the train station, Inukimi paused on the street corner, looking around, Izayoi still taking photos. Several minutes later, Izayoi saw a car pull up to the curb, and a man got out of the car. He went over to Inukimi, bowed, and then she bowed back and handed him her bags. The man loaded the bags into the trunk of the car, and Inukimi got into the backseat. Izayoi quickly hailed a cab and jumped in the back.

“Where to, miss?” asked the driver.

“Follow that car,” Izayoi said to the driver. When Inukimi’s car pulled away, the cab driver grunted and drove after it.

Inukimi’s driver drove leisurely through the streets; she was clearly in no rush, and it was fairly easy to follow them. Izayoi kept a close eye on the car, but she really didn’t need to; the driver was following the speed limit, and seemed to be heading back in the direction of the Taisho estate.

Sure enough, thirty minutes later, Inukimi’s car came to a stop in front of her estate. The driver got out, opened the door for Inukimi, and helped her out. As Inukimi smoothed out her clothes, the driver opened the trunk of the car and got out her purchases. Izayoi handed her cabbie some yen to cover the ride, and hopped out. She watched from across the street as the gate opened, and Inukimi went inside. The gate closed after her, and Izayoi was left alone.

Izayoi stared at the gate. What was Inukimi up to? She’d spent all those hours in the warehouse, and then the next few hours shopping. Izayoi tapped her chin with her pen. Izayoi had not seemed disheveled after the warehouse; she had not seemed floaty, or distracted...if anything, she seemed just as focused when she left the warehouse as she did when she went in. If she’d been going to meet her lover...well, in Izayoi’s experience? Women who met their lovers tended to be more distracted _and_ more aware of their surroundings, afraid of being caught. Inukimi seemed cool, calm, collected. 

And while Izayoi wasn’t quite sure what was going on, she was pretty sure that this was _not_ an affair, or at least, just _simply_ an affair. Something inside her just kept saying this was not an affair...but rather, something darker, more mysterious.

Whatever it was, Izayoi would be back the next day, and the next, to try and figure out what was going on with Miyazawa Inukimi. 

Because Toga...he deserved to know.

* * *

All of her photos spread out on the table before her, Izayoi began to try and make sense of all the evidence she had collected that day. Her photos seemed to suggest a fairly normal routine for Inukimi: leave the estate, walk to the train station, take the train to Ikeubukuro, visit the warehouse, stay for a few hours, and then engage in a day of leisurely shopping—definitely hiding whatever it was Inukimi had been up to in the warehouse. The shops she visited seemed haphazard, too; the shop owners didn’t seem to recognize her, or at least, only engaged in idle chatter with her. Izayoi suspected that Inukimi changed up the shops that she went to, in order to avoid getting to know the shop owners too well.

After her arms were full, she then called for a car, which picked her up closer to the train station, in an area of the city that was a little more populated than where she had come back from. The car drove her back to the estate, and the driver helped her with her bags. 

Izayoi set out the photos in chronological order. She looked them over, trying to see if she was missing anything. Her eyes scanned the warehouse photos, and came to a stop on the last one she had taken—the one of Inukimi leaving. Izayoi picked it up, and narrowed her eyes, looking at it closely. She reached into her desk, and pulled out the business card that Toga had given her, and she reached for her phone to dial the number that Toga had told her would be available any hour of the day. 

“Taisho.” He answered almost immediately, and his voice was deep and rumbly. Even through the phone, the sound made Izayoi’s chest tighten.

“Toga-san?” she said hesitantly. 

“Izayoi-san,” he said. “I thought you preferred to meet in person to discuss any issues that should arise?”

“I—yes.” She wasn’t about to mince words. She needed to get to the point as quickly as possible. “But this couldn’t wait.”

“Do you wish for me to come see you?” The way he phrased that question... _oh the answers she could give him_.

Izayoi took in a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. “If you have time,” she said, “I would much rather talk with you here.”

“I can be there in thirty minutes.” The click of the receiver told Izayoi that Toga was already on his way. She turned back to the photos she’d taken, and immediately went back to scanning the warehouse photos to see if she could find any more evidence, like she had in the picture that led her to call Toga.

She was still shuffling through the photos when she heard the door to the office lobby open. “Hello?” she called out. She’d sent Myoga home hours ago; it was past 9, but Izayoi wasn’t going home anytime soon. She still needed to head to the arcade to ask questions about the ookami boy who’d been with the Akami girl before she disappeared.

The door to her office opened, and like he had done the day before, Taisho Toga filled the doorway. “Izayoi-san,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What do you have for me?” 

She smiled at him wanly. “Hello, Toga-san,” she replied. “Come, please, have a seat.”

He crossed the room and sank into the chair opposite her desk, looking at her with a thoughtful expression. His golden eyes took in her form, eventually settling on her own, soft brown eyes. He leaned forward and looked over the desk, taking in all the photos she had taken.

“You took all these today, Izayoi-san?” he asked her.

She nodded, and took out her notebook, prepared to walk him through his wife’s day. 

“At approximately 9:45 this morning,” Izayoi began, pointing at the first pictures. “Miyazawa Inukimi left the Taisho estate on foot. She walked to the train station, bought a ticket, and got on the train that was headed towards Toshima-ku. She rode the train for about thirty minutes, and got off at Ikebukuro Station. From there,” Izayoi’s hands drifted to the next set of pictures, “she walked through the neighborhood, moving away from the more populated sections of the city, and turned down a side street without any commerce at all.” Izayoi paused, and indicated the next set of photos. “From there,” she continued, “Inukimi-san went to a large warehouse at the end of the block. She went in here,” Izayoi pointed to a photo with the entrance, “and was in there for three hours.”

“I—I’m sorry, Izayoi-san,” Toga said. “But you said _three hours_?”

Izayoi nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Three hours. When she emerged, she went back the way she came, stopping at various shops and making various purchases.” She slipped a piece of paper over to Toga, “These are your wife’s purchases,” she said. “Perhaps you can explain why she might have bought these things?” 

Toga frowned. “The book and the manga are some of our son’s favorites,” he commented, reading the list over. “So maybe she bought him a new edition of the Soseki? I’m not sure.” He frowned and rubbed his forehead. “So the warehouse and the fact that she went shopping over thirty minutes from our home—for things she could have easily purchased in our neighborhood.” 

“Correct,” Izayoi said. “The warehouse makes me think...perhaps this isn’t an affair, Toga-san? Perhaps there’s something else going on?”

“I have no idea what else it could be, Izayoi-san,” he replied.

Izayoi selected one photo from the group, and slipped it over to Toga. “Do you recognize the man in this photo?” she asked him. “I didn’t see him when I was taking the pictures, but after I developed it? He was definitely clear in the doorway behind your wife.”

Toga took one look at the photo, frowned, and looked up at her. “This,” he said in a strangled voice, “is Ryukotsusei, the man I think she is having an affair with.”

Izayoi nodded. “So then I really don’t think this is an affair, Toga-san,” she said. “If it were, would they be carrying on in a warehouse? Why not a love hotel?”

“Too obvious? Too easy to track?” My wife _is_ fairly easy to spot from a distance.” His face broke out into a true smile this time, as his eyes settled on Izayoi almost affectionately. 

Izayoi gulped, and tried not to get too excited at the way he was looking at her. “She...she was not hard to follow,” Izayoi said. “Almost like she doesn’t care? Or she doesn’t expect anyone _to_ actually follow her?”

Toga sighed. “My wife’s greatest—drawback—and our greatest advantage—is that she has overconfidence in spades,” he told her. “She would never think that she would be found out, so she would never bother to take precautions. She thinks she is smart—too smart for me.”

“But you’re onto her already, Toga-san,” Izayoi said.

He nodded. “ _We_ are onto her, Izayoi-san,” he said, leaning forward and grasping Izayoi’s hand in his own. She blushed—just a little—as his golden eyes, earnest and serious, found her own. “And together, we will figure out what she is up to, and we will bring her down.”

Izayoi rested her other hand on top of his, and squeezed it gently in return. “I promise you, Toga-san,” she said, “I will get to the bottom of this. But first…”

“You need to get into that warehouse,” Toga said. Izayoi nodded, and his jaw set.

“I’ll learn her schedule, Toga-san,” Izayoi said. “And once I do, I’ll figure out how to get into that warehouse.” She paused, her eyes drifting to his sexy, delicious lips. She felt an incredible attraction to him in that moment; her soul felt awake, alive, on fire. She…

“For you,” she added, her voice way more husky than she intended, “I will do anything for you.”

And Toga’s eyes burned a fiery gold, and his smile was slow, and soft, and gentle.

“You don’t have to do _anything_ for me, Izayoi-san,” he replied softly. “Just what you want to do.”

Izayoi squeezed his hand again, and leaned forward slightly.

“Believe me,” she said, her voice catching a little, “this is _exactly_ what I want to do.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izayoi learns more about Inukimi's duplicitousness, and later, Toga accompanies Izayoi on a job, and is surprisingly helpful.

Over the next few days, Izayoi continued to follow Inukimi around; every day, Toga’s wife went to the warehouse, then ran her errands. After the third day, Izayoi was able to predict Inukimi’s schedule fairly well, and the fourth day, she got to the warehouse early, around 9, so that she could watch and see who was coming and going. She was shocked to see the tall man from her photo—the one Toga identified as Ryukotsusei—arrive at the warehouse about 9:30. Immediately she began snapping photos as she watched him slip inside the building. About 30 minutes later, Inukimi arrived, and one again she did not leave for nearly three hours, Ryukotsusei following approximately 30 minutes later.

Once she was sure that everyone was gone, Izayoi took some time to explore the warehouse. There was one entrance, in the front: that she knew. The windows had bars. Were there any other possible ways to get into the warehouse? That was what she had to figure out.

Quietly, Izayoi crept around the side of the building. The walls were smooth, and solid, and the only windows appeared to be at the front of the building. As she circled around to the back, she found that there was, in fact, an opening with a conveyor belt...a way for product to be moved, once upon a time. She got onto the belt, and crawled inside, and looked around. 

The space inside the warehouse was vast; it was basically one story, with old processing machines still set up. Izayoi jumped down from the belt, and began to walk amongst the machines. There were so many of the machines, but Izayoi found a clearing in one of the corners. Set up there was a table and several chairs. Izayoi cursed herself; this was one time she wished she was a youkai, so that she could see if she could detect Izayoi or Ryukotsusei’s scent. But for now, she would see if she could lift some fingerprints, take them to her contact at the police station. 

Izayoi worked quickly and silently, hoping that no one would come back and catch her. She kept her eyes and ears carefully open as she worked; within minutes, she had the prints lifted, and put in a secure place in her bag. But Izayoi already knew two things: she had overstayed her welcome, and she needed to come back.

On her way out through the rear of the building, she noticed a catwalk near the top of the building. A perfect place to hide during a prospective meeting...as she quickly scouted the perimeter inside, she found a ladder that would lead her up, and she suspected that, with a tarp or something else, she’d be able to hide herself fairly well. It was just a matter of getting there before Ryukotsusei—and maybe before anyone else who might be attending the meetings, as well.

On her way back to the office, Izayoi stopped at the arcade where she’d been looking for Akami Ayame and the elusive Koga. She needed that case to wrap up, fast, so that she could focus all her attention on the Miyazawa Inukimi case. And it was good she went, because she _finally_ got a break; a young ookami named Ginta told her that Koga frequented an arcade in Shibuya, and that he’d been there with a female ookami with red hair. Izayoi resolved to track him that night, after she got back to the office and reported to Toga.

Toga picked up his private line after only a few rings. “What can I do for you?” he asked, his deep voice reverberating through the phone line.

“I have an update,” she said, “if you have time to meet me at the office.”

“Thirty minutes,” he said. “See you then.”

Izayoi cradled the receiver and got to her feet. She went back to her thinking wall, the wall where she had mapped out Akami Ayame’s disappearance; she put a new pushpin at the arcade in Taito, then stepped back to look at the entire shape of the map. She started at the way that she’d identified Akami’s movements; from her school, to the arcade, to her house. Back to school, cram school, home. Nothing. Gone. Poof.

Izayoi sighed, running her fingers through her hair and tugging on her ponytail. She had to resolve this, and fast.

“Izayoi-san?” Myoga poked his head through the door. “I’m going to head home for the day.”

She smiled. “That’s fine, Myoga,” she said. “Taisho Toga will be coming by for an update on his case, and then I’m heading out to Shibuya to investigate a lead on the Akami case.”

Myoga nodded. “Don’t forget to call your mother, Izayoi-san,” he said gently.

Izayoi stilled. “O—Okay, Myoga,” she replied. “I’ll do it now.”

“Good,” he answered, then slipped a fedora on his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Izayoi-kun.” He almost never used a pet name for her, and he disappeared from her doorway. She heard the outer door slam, and Izayoi dragged herself over to her desk and sank down in her chair. 

She stared at her phone. Her mother...she needed to call her mother.

Izayoi’s parents were teachers. Her father taught high school math; her mother, until a few years ago, had been a middle-school history teacher. It was because of her mother that Izayoi had decided to major in political science in college; it was because of her father that she was able to solve mysteries as well as she was. She had enough political savvy to navigate any situation, and she had enough logical intelligence to put together puzzle pieces. 

Which was why, when her mother became mysteriously ill, and it wasn’t a puzzle Izayoi could solve, she withdrew from her parents, angry at her mother for being unsolvable, and angry at herself for being unable to solve it in the first place.

Izayoi picked up the receiver, and dialed the number she could never forget, no matter how much she tried.

“ _Moshi moshi! Fuijmura desu_.”

“Hi, Mama,” Izayoi said. “It’s me.”

“ _Ah!_ ” Her mother’s voice sounded impossibly cheery. “ _How are you, my dear_?”

“Fine.” She didn’t want her mother to know much about her life. That she was a private investigator. Her mother thought she worked in the local prefecture office...she had no idea that when Izayoi moved to Tokyo from Sapporo, she would be launching her own business, but that it would be a PI business (and a fairly successful one, at that). The longer she could keep the secret from her parents, who would invariably worry (especially her mother), the better.

“ _Are you sure_?” Her mother’s voice had shifted from cheery to concerned. “ _You don’t sound fine_.”

Izayoi sighed. “Just a lot of work this week, that’s all.” At least that wasn’t a lie. “How are things with your treatment going?” 

She had to ask. The latest round of treatments for her mother’s unknown ailment were dialysis (for her kidney failure) and carefully monitored light exercise (for her heart problems). The root cause of her litany of issues was still unclear, but as of yet, the exhaustive battery of tests had found nothing, save the symptoms that they continued to treat.

Her mother paused. “ _Dialysis is fine_ ,” she said carefully. “ _I really like my exercise, though! The nurse and I walk around the hospital a few times. She stops and checks my heart rate and pulse ox every minute or so, which is kind of annoying, but at least I get to leave the house_.”

Izayoi was quiet. She...wished she could be there, but also...not.

“ _You don’t have to be here, dear_ ,” her mother said, as if sensing Izayoi’s thoughts. “ _If something goes wrong, your father is here_.”

“I just wish we could figure out what’s wrong with you!” Izayoi burst out. “I wish we could solve all your problems.”

“ _Izayoi_.” Her mother’s voice was kind, but firm. _“If this is what the gods will, then we have to follow their missive. You know this_.”

“It’s not fair,” Izayoi muttered, sounding petulant and not even caring a little.

“ _When will we see you again_?” her mother asked, ignoring Izayoi’s outburst.

“I’ll be off at New Year’s,” Izayoi said, “so then?”

“ _That’s a long way off, Izayoi dear_ ,” her mother said, and instantly Izayoi’s heart twisted.

“It’s the soonest I can get there, Mama,” Izayoi said.

“ _Then we will look forward to your visit eagerly,_ ” her mother replied. “ _Until then, be a good girl, and we love you. Call again soon, okay_?”

“Okay, Mama,” answered Izayoi. “Bye-bye.”

Izayoi hung up the phone and buried her head in her hands. How long had it been since she’d seen her mother? Her mother sounded the same, but was she really? How much longer could Izayoi afford to stay away? 

Until she had answers. Then, and only then, would she be able to go home.

“Sounds like that was a difficult conversation, Izayoi-san,” said a deep voice from the doorway. Izayoi jumped, and flipped her ponytail, and watched in horror as Toga strode into her office and sat in the chair on the other side of her desk. He crossed his legs easily and looked at her, hard. “Your mother?”

Izayoi nodded. “They live in Sapporo. She’s ill. They don’t know what’s causing it. And I…”

“You want to help her,” Toga said knowingly. Izayoi nodded, and he smiled softly. “Then,” he said, reaching forward to take one of her hands in his, “once you solve this case for me, I hope you will allow my personal physician to go to Sapporo and visit with your mother. Youkai doctors are often more astute than human ones. He may pick up on something that her doctors have missed.”

Izayoi was struck dumb: by his offer, by the way his golden eyes glowed when he looked at her, by the way his thumb was making tiny circles on the back of her hand. She was having a hard time concentrating on anything but his gaze, and his look of concern, and his hand on hers. Then, he cleared his throat gently, and the spell was broken; Izayoi tore her hand away from his, and then was unsure of what to do with it. She flopped it one way, then another, and eventually settled it back in lap, having a weird schoolgirl feeling that she would never wash it again.

“You...uh...had an update for me?” His voice was deep, and kind, and Izayoi again found herself distracted.

“Yes,” she said, “yes I do.” She took out her camera and tapped it. “I haven’t had time to develop the photos yet,” she said, “but I’ll do it after our chat, before I go out for the evening. I infiltrated the warehouse today.” 

Toga’s eyes grew wide. “Izayoi-san, you can’t…”

“It was fine,” she assured him. “I did it after both your wife and Ryukotsusei-san left. There’s a conveyor belt opening at the back of the building; I went in that way, and explored the building a bit.”

“Izayoi-san.” The depth of his voice made her blink and look up into his golden eyes, which seemed to glow against the darkness of the night outside. “I don’t want you investigating further if it means you’re going to be putting yourself at risk.”

Izayoi leaned back in her chair and laughed. “This is what I do, Toga-san,” she responded, a little heat in her voice. “I investigate; I photograph; I expose. That’s the life of a private investigator. I’m not some delicate flower who will bend with a sudden gust of wind. I’m a rock, Toga-san,” she added fiercely. “I stand tall against the storm. I’m pretty unflappable; nothing shocks or scares me.”

“Still,” he insisted, “my wife is lethal. Should she catch you…”

“I can take care of myself,” Izayoi insisted. “You will just have to trust me, okay? In fact,” she continued, “after you leave, tonight? I’m off to Shibuya to hopefully wrap up my other case.”

“Your—other case?” He sounded incredulous.

“Come here.” She rose, and went over to the thinking wall. Toga rose from his own chair and followed her interestedly. “Here,” she said. “Akami Ayame. Seventeen years old. Female ookami. Went missing from her family’s home about a month ago. Family has no idea where she went. I tracked her to an arcade near her school, where she’d been hanging out with a male ookami. I finally got a lead on him—he frequents an arcade in Shibuya. So tonight I’ll be heading over there, see if he’s there, if she’s there, and if I can convince her to go home.”

“You think she’s with the boy?” His voice was careful, thoughtful.

“That’s how it usually is,” Izayoi shrugged. “Teenage girl, teenage boy? Nine times out of ten, she’s run away to be with him. So hopefully, tonight? I find him, and I find her.”

“I’m coming with you.” His voice was hard, final: as though he’d never been denied anything he wanted in his life. It made Izayoi’s insides burn. With anger...and desire.

“That’s not necessary,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “If you knew…”

“I _know_ ,” he said heatedly, “that you are a woman who will be out and about alone at night, and that anything could happen to you. So,” he crossed his arms over his chest and looked frightfully serious, “I’m _coming_.”

“Okay, so first,” she retorted, “if you knew the _half_ of what I do and where I go at night…” Well, she didn’t know _what_ he would say, but she was sure he wouldn’t be happy. “And why does it matter to you? And second…” She paused. “I can’t take Taisho Toga to an arcade in Shibuya.”

“Why ever not?” His eyes held her gaze steady, and she blushed.

“Because...have you seen yourself?” She waved up and down his beautiful, muscular, _tall_ , body. “You don’t exactly fit into a crowd. I have to be unassuming and nondescript. You...well, every youkai in a kilometer radius is gonna know who you are and _where_ you are.”

Toga grinned at her, his fangs dipping below his lips. “All right, Izayoi-san,” he replied, and _why didn’t she like where this was going?_ , “I can see your point. So what if I could make myself more unassuming?” When she gaped at him, unable to answer, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a bracelet. It was made of beads—purple and fang-shaped beads (at least, she hoped they were beads!) alternating, and when he slipped it onto his wrist, Izayoi gasped.

Before her very eyes, Taisho Toga was...changing.

His hair shifted from a luminous silver to a lustrous black; his eyes changed from gold to violet; his fangs and his claws reduced, and the turquoise markings on his face faded away. 

Taisho Toga had become, for all intents and purposes, _human_.

“How—how—how?” Izayoi had no words.

He chuckled. “Concealment charm in this bracelet,” he told her. “I only wear when I need to be discreet. About 95% of the time? It pays to be Taisho Toga. But for times that it doesn’t…” He turned the bracelet on his wrist affectionately. “Kitsunes are a pain in the ass, but damn if their magic doesn’t come in handy from time to time.”

Izayoi giggled; she couldn’t help it. Then, she realized what this meant.

“You still can’t come with me.” She had to be firm.

“Like hell.” And it looked like he was going to be firm right back.

She sighed. “You’re going to get in my way,” she protested, but they both knew that her argument was weak.

“I’m good in a fight,” he argued, “and can watch your back.”

“Fine,” she retorted. “But I get to call the shots.”

“Fine.” Even violet, his eyes were still captivating, and she couldn’t look away when they held her own so firmly. “Then let’s go.”

“I drove,” he said. “We can take my car.”

“It’s not too flashy, is it?” she asked skeptically. “I don’t want to draw attention.”

“A Toyota,” he said easily. “Supra.”

“Of course you do,” she muttered. Of course Taisho Toga drove a sexy-ass car. _Of course_.

He walked over to the door and offered her a smirk. Even human in appearance, he was still gorgeous. “Coming, Izayoi-san?” he asked.

“Ye—Yes.” She needed to get herself together, and _fast._

Izayoi locked up her office and followed Toga down to the street, where he walked about a block south to a red, two-door Supra. It looked….small?

“How in all the hells does he fit in this?” she muttered. He laughed, and she looked up at him, surprised.

“Just because I _look_ human,” he said with a smirk, “doesn’t mean that I am.” He opened the door for her. “Climb in.” She obliged him, and he strode over to the driver-side door, slipping into the front seat and starting the engine. Izayoi watched as he pulled away from the curb; his nimble fingers shifting the gears easily, his long, lean legs working the gas, the brake, and the clutch in sync perfectly. Izayoi was mesmerized. 

“Where in Shibuya?” he asked her, turning onto the highway, heading south from Taito-ku.

“Right off C-1,” she told him. “1-Chome, 36-14.”

“Got it,” he said, and sped up a little on the highway. They rode together in silence for several minutes; finally, Toga spoke again.

“You don’t get to see your parents very much?” he asked her at last, changing lanes with ease.

“I don’t,” Izayou replied. “The job is kind of a 365-day-a-year kind of thing.”

“Do you have siblings?”

Izayoi shook her head. “No,” she replied. “My father really wanted me to get married right out of college, but my mother said I should be allowed to do what I want.”

“Including starting your own PI business?”

Izayoi froze. “They...don’t know that this is what I do.”

“I see.” They rode in silence for a bit longer; then, Izayoi couldn’t help her own line of questioning. 

“How about your family? Your parents?”

“My parents have been gone a long time, Izayoi-san,” he said. “It is really just me, and my wife, and our son, Sesshomaru.” He paused. “I guess that I should stop referring to her as my wife, shouldn’t I?” he added thoughtfully. “After all, if she is having an affair, I’ll be divorcing her. And...even if she’s not...the fact that I don’t trust her? Definitely a reason to divorce her.” One golden eye drifted to Izayoi, and she shivered.

Toga turned off the highway at a Shibuya exit; he turned down 1-Chome, and quickly found a parking garage. “All right if we park here?” he asked her.

“Sure,” she shrugged. “It’s only a short walk from here.” 

Toga took a ticket and drove into the garage. He quickly found a place to park, and slid easily into the space. He and Izayoi got out of the car, and Izayoi led the way to the arcade.

“Who are we looking for at the arcade, Izayoi-san?” he asked her quietly as they walked.

Izayoi considered the question. “An ookami named Koga. My guess is he’s the equivalent of late teens, early 20s in human appearance.” She paused. “I don’t know much about him, except that he’s ookami. Or…” She pulled a photo out of her jacket pocket and handed it to him. “Akami Ayame. That’s what she looks like.” 

“I saw her picture on your wall,” he said, handing the photograph back to her. “I rarely forget a face...or a scent.” He eyed her appreciatively, as though he knew _exactly_ what she smelled like, and he _liked_ it.

“The—the arcade is here,” she whispered, nearly missing the entrance in her haste to both bask in and ignore what he said. Izayoi took his elbow, and immediately froze at the way he molded himself to her form.

“If we look like we’re together,” he murmured, his violet eyes twinkling, “we look less suspicious.”

But the way he looked at her told her that this wasn’t the only reason he had pressed himself to her side.

The arcade was loud, and raucous, as arcades are wanton to be. There was a row of pinball machines along one wall, and a row of grab games along another. The middle was full of a variety of games, ranging from the older ones, like Pong, to some of the newer ones, like Contra. Izayoi immediately felt overwhelmed by the sounds, and leaned into Toga for strength.

“Well, Izayoi.” His voice was deep, and low, and why did he speak to her so familiarly? “I don’t think we’ll have to look long for your ookami.”

“Why ever not?” She looked up at him; his face was hardened, a look of disgust marring his handsome features.

“Because,” he replied, looking into the arcade and not at her, “I smell wolf.” He paused. “Two, to be precise.”

Izayoi sucked in a breath. Could it be…?

“Back of the arcade,” he said abruptly, now taking her by the elbow and tugging her along. He didn’t care what they looked like; it was only when Izayoi said, “Toga-san! Please!” and slowed down her gait that he looked down at her and stopped.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Call me by my name. It’s more affectionate. And…” His eyes grew hard again. “I hate the smell of wolf.”

“Just act natural,” she hissed, and allowed him to slip an arm around her shoulders and they headed to the back of the arcade. When they got there, Izayoi tried not to gasp in surprise: there, lounging across an old Batman pinball game, was who had to be Koga. He was young, and wolfish, his long hair tied up in a ponytail, a sweatband around his head. His ears were pointed, marking his status as a youkai. He wore a track suit, with bright white sneakers. His bright blue eyes looked darted around the arcade, only to settle back on…

Akami Ayame.

“Holy shit,” Izayoi muttered. She had been expecting to _maybe_ find Koga there, but Ayame too? 

“Okay, PI-san,” Toga whispered, giving her a little shove, “go do your thing.” He hung back abd watched her walk towards them; when she looked back, he gave her a grin, and shooed her along.

“Excuse me,” Izayoi said, gaining confidence with every step, “but you wouldn’t happen to be Akami Ayame, would you?”

The red-haired ookami snapped her bubble gum and blew it in Izayoi’s face. “And who wants to know?” she snarked.

Izayoi took out a card and handed it to her. “Fujimura Izayoi,” she said. “I’m a PI your parents hired to find you.”

Koga immediately growled and leapt down from the pinball machine, pushing Ayame behind him, Izayoi’s card fluttering to the floor. “Hold on you... _human_ ,” he grunted. “You’re not getting within a thousand meters of Ayame.”

Izayoi felt a warm presence at her side; the moment Koga had jumped down from the table, Toga had come to her side, ready to protect her. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he immediately stood down.

“Ayame-chan,” Izayoi said softly. “Your parents are worried sick. Why did you run away?”

“Because I love Koga!” she cried hotly. “And I don’t want to leave him!”

“Why on earth would you need to do that?” Izayoi asked, surprised. 

“Because my parents want me to date this other ookami...Hakkaku,” she said bitterly. “But Koga and I have been together for a year, and I don’t want to give him up. So,” she added, her eyes hard, “I’m going to stay away until I turn 18, and then we can mate, and they can’t say anything about it!”

“But don’t you think that’s a decision you would want to make with your parents?” Izayoi continued. “You’re so young, and if you explain to them—”

“I’m too young to know what I want,” Ayame retorted. “I’m too young to know my own mind.” She burrowed under Koga’s arm; he slipped it around her and nuzzled her hair. 

“I’m sorry, Fuijmura-san,” Koga said, “but you’ve wasted your time. Ayame’s gonna stay with me until she’s 18, and then we can mate, and there’s nothing her parents can do about it.”

“Think about it, both of you,” Izayoi pointed out, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. 

“Are you sure that you’re mates?” Toga asked suddenly, causing everyone to look up at him.

“What is that supposed to mean,” Koga demanded.

“Are your youki drawn to each other?” Toga answered. “Do you feel like you can’t be away from her? Do you feel like you have to have her by your side, all the time? Like you need to protect her? Do you, Akami-san,” he said, turning to Ayame, “do you feel the same about him?”

“I do,” they answered in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.

“Then,” Izayoi said kindly, “I think that’s the only answer that you need. You’re mates. You’re going to be mates. Your parents, Ayame-chan, they can’t do anything to stop you and Koga from being together. Not if you’re mates.” She paused. “I have an idea,” she added. “I think that the two of you should go to Ayame-chan’s parents. Tomorrow. Tell them everything. If you do, I won’t give away your location to the police. If you don’t go home…” She was running on a hunch, but Toga had just told her he _never forgot a scent_. She looked up at him briefly, and he nodded at her. “If you don’t go home,” she added, “the police will come after you, take you home by force, Ayame-chan, and you, Koga-kun? You’ll be arrested for kidnapping.”

“They can’t do that!” Koga exclaimed, while Ayame cried out, “You can’t make me!”

“They can,” Izayoi said, “and I’m not _making_ you do anything. But I hope that tomorrow I get a phone call from your parents saying that you’re home, and that we can close the case. Otherwise…” She looked at them both, hard. “I _will_ know, Ayame-chan,” she added. “I hope that you will make the right choice?”

Ayame and Koga looked at each other. “They really can’t do anything if we’re truly mates?” Ayame asked.

“They can’t,” Toga said wisely. “You are bound together by fate, which is a much stronger tie than any other. You’re lucky to have found each other so young...you’ll have a millennia of time together.” He paused. “Enjoy it,” he added. “Don’t turn your backs on your families. Give them the chance to celebrate, too.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about, oji-san,” Koga said. “For a human, maybe you’re not so bad.”

Toga chuckled. “Fujimura-san and I are well-versed in the ways of youkai,” he said, somewhat mysteriously. “I promise that, if you go to Ayame-san’s family and tell them that you’re mates? They will be happy for you, and everything will work out.”

“If you think—” Koga said.

“I _know_ ,” Toga said.

“Then I think it’s settled,” Koga said to Ayame. “Tomorrow we go home, see your parents, tell them?” Amaye nodded slowly. He turned to Izayoi and Toga. “If we don’t, you can really find us?”

“We really can,” Izayoi said, “and I promise you that it’s not gonna be pretty. Take this chance, _please_.”

“O—Okay,” Ayame said. “We will.”

Koga and Ayame talked with Toga and Izayoi for a few minutes more, then left the arcade, Toga and Izayoi following them slowly. They watched the young ookami couple head down the street, the opposite direction of the parking garage, and Izayoi looked at Toga.

“I took a chance, there,” she said. “I remembered when you said that…”

“I never forget a scent,” he finished for her. “And, yes, I mean that. I _never_ forget, and I now have both of their scents imprinted pretty firmly. I don’t want to risk following them home, because that male ookami will be looking out for us, but I can tell you that...he doesn’t bring her home tomorrow, and we will unleash all the hells on him.”

Toga’s face was fierce, and even though it was human, Izayoi couldn’t help but shiver.

“How do you know that her parents won’t be mad?” Izayoi asked softly.

Toga turned to her, all the heat gone from his eyes. “Because,” he said, “Inukimi is my wife, but not my mate. If I were to find my mate…” His eyes blazed again, like fireworks, and Izayoi was captivated when he turned them on her. “You can bet,” he added quietly, “that I would move all the heavens and all the hells to be with her, and to have her be with me.”

He reached forward and cupped Izayoi’s cheek, running his thumb tenderly over her skin. “I...you did really well tonight, Izayoi,” he murmured. 

“You helped,” she whispered back. “Your stuff about mates…”

“All true, really,” he said. 

She closed her eyes, and relished the feel of his skin against hers. She forgot it all: the fact that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in Shibuya; that he was married; that she was investigating his wife, who _might_ be having an affair; that he had hired her to do a job.

All that mattered—all she could recall—was the feel of him, on her, and it was _glorious_.

“Which is why tomorrow,” he added, “I’ll be going to that warehouse with you.”

Izayoi blinked, and stepped back, and shook her head. “No way,” she said vehemently. “I let you tag along tonight—”

“And I think I was needed, given how the conversation went,” he pointed out.

“But tomorrow?” she continued, as though she hadn’t heard him. “I need _total_ concentration, Toga. I can’t have you following me around and making noise and distracting me.”

Toga began to laugh: like a real, deep, belly laugh, that caused him to lean over and grasp his knees and he laughed so hard he was wheezing. “Woman, please!” he barked out. “Do you know who I am? Do you think that I am some klutzy old ox youkai, who’s gonna stumble all over the place?” He stood up and looked her full in the face, his laughter suddenly gone. “I am inu youkai, Izayoi. I am among the most noble of the youkai, and I don’t fuck around. So. Perhaps I am asking the wrong way.” He paused. “It would please me a great deal if you would allow me to accompany you tomorrow on your investigation, Izayoi. And I will _not_ take no for an answer.”

The strength, and the _command_ in his voice made Izayoi stop, and think. If she went in alone, she would definitely be quieter, and had more places where she could camp out during whatever was going to be happening during the meeting. If she allowed Toga to come, though...she’d have backup, and that could be useful.

“You have to disguise your youki,” she said. “And your scent.”

“I can do both,” he told her. “Human form, and scent blockers.”

“Good,” she said. She reached into her pocket, pulled out another card, along with a pencil (never pens, not since one leaked in and destroyed her clothes). She wrote down an address and handed him her card. “7:30 am tomorrow sharp. Don’t be late. Don’t park your card within a six-block radius of the warehouse.” She paused. “And you have to follow my lead. What I say? Goes.”

He nodded. “Agree to all points,” he said, tucking the card into his back pocket. “Now,” he added, “it’s time to get you home, so you can sleep and be fresh for tomorrow. What do you say?” His eyes narrowed playfully. “Will you let me take you home?”

Izayoi smiled. “You bet,” she said. “I would love nothing more.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toga and Izayoi are stunned to learn what Inukimi is up to. Later, Toga joins Izayoi at her apartment for ramen and...more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha (or, in this case, Toga or Izayoi), or any of the characters from the manga and/or anime.
> 
> Hello everyone! I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and doing well. 
> 
> Welcome to the next chapter of Hardboiled! Lots of action happening in this chapter, which features some beautiful commissioned art from [clementinesgulag](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/), as well as sexual content--be sure to heed the tags!

Promptly at 7:30 the next morning, Izayoi was standing out back of the warehouse, staring at the conveyor belt opening. She was waiting for Toga, but she didn’t want to have to wait, because she was nervous about being outside too long. She...didn’t know who else was attending these meetings with Ryukotsusei and Inukimi, and if there _were_ other people, it meant that they were coming and going before and after the other two, and that meant that there could be trouble. Izayoi sighed, and tapped her foot, already impatient and doubting Toga’s ability to stick to a plan.

“Good morning, Izayoi,” said a familiar, deep voice from somewhere to her right. Izayoi jumped, and there, standing in the opening to the building, leaning against the concrete wall, was Toga. He was human again, and he stared down at her with twinkling violet eyes. “Why’re you still down there?” he asked her. “Aren’t we supposed to be investigating?”

“What—how did you— _huh_?” she sputtered, clambering up onto the belt and then following him into the building.

“I’ve been here an hour,” he said, “just checking things out. I’m pretty sure that we’ll have a good vantage point from the catwalk—”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she said.

“But I don’t know if you’re gonna be able to take photos while they’re here,” he said, “unless your shutter is absolutely silent. Inukimi can hear _everything_ —inu youkai, remember—and we don’t want to give ourselves away.”

“It’s enough that we’re both here,” Izayoi said, “and if worse comes to worse, we can corroborate what we saw if we’re asked.”

“Perfect,” he said, “then no photographs. No writing. You will be barely breathing. Inukimi—inu youkai in general—hear _everything_.”

“Won’t she hear you too?” Izyaoi asked him.

“I know _exactly_ how to make sure that I’m not heard,” he said, winking at her. She immediately flushed and wondered what he meant. 

“So,” she said, trying to ignore how her voice was cracking and her body was trembling, “let’s get ourselves set up, shall we?”

He nodded. “Did you see how we get up to the catwalk?”

“I did, yesterday, yes.” She led the way over to the ladder she’d seen the day before, and slowly, she made her way up the ladder, Toga climbing behind her. She was completely aware of the fact that her ass was so close to his face, and she gulped, realizing she should have let him go up the ladder first…

So his ass could be in _her_ face.

Yes. That was a...better...arrangement. 

Thankfully, they reached the top of the ladder fairly quickly, and Izayoi swung up onto the catwalk. She held out a hand to Toga, who accepted and let her pull him up after her. His violet eyes twinkled at her, and when she flashed him the briefest of smiles, he offered her a warm grin in return. Together, they slunk down the catwalk, and positioned themselves in the corner, where they both had a good view of the ground _and_ could keep themselves well-hidden in the shadows.

“We should be okay here,” he murmured to her, settling down into a seat on the catwalk and gently pulling her down with him. “What time did you say they’ve been arriving?”

Izayoi folded her legs criss-cross style and looked at her watch. “About 30 minutes from now,” she whispered. “So we should be okay until…”

A loud _bang_ had them both immediately quiet and looking towards the entrance. The tall silhouette of a man, followed by three more, smaller men, filed into the main room of the warehouse. Toga caught his breath, ever so slightly, as the tall man came into the light.

His hair was wild, and a greenish-brown color; Izayoi could see it jutting out around him in waves. His face was long, and his nose nearly a snout; his eyes were a sparkling gold, much like Toga’s, but deeper, and darker, in both color and maliciousness. A simple, quiet nudge from Toga confirmed what Izayoi was thinking:

_Ryukotsusei_.

He was not nearly as handsome as Toga, but he was equally impeccable dressed, in a dark brown suit with a creamy shirt and soft plaid tie. Izayoi couldn’t help but admire his looks. He slipped into one of the chairs at the table in the middle of the warehouse, the other men taking seats around him.

Izayoi couldn’t take pictures, so she glared at them hard and tried to commit them to memory. The first was broad-shouldered, with a long dark braid that he wore flipped over his torso. It hung down his chest, which Izayoi could tell was well-muscled under his plain black shirt. His dark blue eyes flashed menacingly at Ryukotsusei, and his arms crossed over his chest.

The second man was as slight as the first man was broad; he wore a more casual, what looked to be polyester, plaid suit, complete with a vest and a pocket square. His hair was shoulder-length, and half thrown up into a messy bun. The third man was the largest—nearly as large as Ryukotsusei himself—and dressed in a simple navy-blue t-shirt and jeans (much like the first man). His dark hair was unkempt, and his dark eyes took in the room cautiously, as though he were expecting there to be spies in the room (which, of course, there were). 

“You’re sure she’ll be here?” the man in the black t-shirt asked, his voice rough.

“She’ll be here,” Ryukotsusei replied. “She’s always here.”

“And she’ll agree to the plan?” the man in the suit asked; his voice, Izayoi noticed, was light, and floating, and quieter than the first man. 

“It was her idea,” Ryukotsusei said impatiently. “She’ll agree, and she’ll tell you what she wants you to do. You haven’t met Miyazawa Inukimi...she’s a hard woman to say no to.”

Toga squeezed Izayoi’s arm lightly, and Izyaoi realized that Ryukotsusei’s statement had multiple meanings. She bit her lip to keep from saying something out loud.

“She’s married to him, though,” the man in black said, practically spitting the word “married” out, “so how do we know she’s legit?”

“I know her.” Ryukotsusei was getting impatient. “Just trust me.”

A sudden banging of the doors again brought everyone, including Izayoi and Toga, to attention. The click-clack of heels against the concrete told them that a woman had entered the building, and it was clear who that woman was.

“Ryukotsusei, dear,” said a silky female voice, “have you brought them?”

Ryukotsusei immediately got to his feet. “I did, Inukimi, love,” he replied, rushing over to an empty chair and pulling it back for her, “I brought exactly who you wanted.”

Inukimi’s ice-blue eyes looked over the men haughtily. She tucked her long silver hair back behind one ear. “Thank you, dear,” she said, sinking into the seat the Ryukotsusei had pulled out for her next to him. She looked at the three gentlemen at the table, then eyed Ryukotsusei carefully as he slid back into his original seat.

“Gentleman,” she said, at long last, “you know why I’ve asked Ryukotsusei to bring you together, correct?”

“We do,” said the man in black, “but forgive me, Miyazawa-san, how is this even possible?”

Inukimi gave him a scathing look. “Who are you, exactly?” she asked.

“Bankotsu,” he replied, jerking a thumb at himself. Then he gestured to the other two men at the table. “Jakotsu. Suikotsu. Part of the Shichinintai. Ryukotsusei hired us to follow through with your plan.” The names caused Izayoi to nearly start. Hired assassins. Everyone—police, PIs, etc.—everyone knew who they were. They were rarely seen, and impossible to catch. And yet—here they were, in the flesh, in front of Izayoi, and plotting with Toga’s wife and Ryukotsusei.

“Ah, yes,” she said airily, “my plan.” She looked around at the men at the table. “I trust you know the basics?” The men nodded, and Inukimi continued. “So let’s get right to the point,” she added. 

“Two days from now, we are hosting a party at the Taisho estate for our annual charity event. I’ll make sure you have entrance, and Ryu will get my husband alone. We make it look like an accident, so that the inheritance passes smoothly.”

“But are you sure that you’ll be able to make all this work, Miyazawa-san?” the man called Jakotsu asked. “I mean, after all, he’s your husband, and won’t you look like a suspect?”

“Not if I have an alibi, Jakotsu-san,” she replied. “My son will be at the party, and I’ll be with him. Ryu will take Toga aside for a business chat, and then make an appearance back at the party just in time.” She turned to Ryukotsusei. “I think that the study will work, no? Apropos, I believe.”

Ryukotsusei nodded. “We’ll make it work, darling. Don’t worry. He’ll come with me, and I’ll lead him to his death.”

“No one will expect it in his own house,” Inukimi said, running her hand through her hair. “An accident, and Taisho Toga in his prime? It will be very tragic. Apparently he had too much to drink and fell out the window, his skull crushed by the sidewalk.” She turned to the three men. “Think you can handle that much?”

Bankotsu nodded. “We’ve taken out more men, with less of us,” he said. “The three of us, plus Kyokotsu, will be there. You’ll get strength and brains.” Bankotsu grinned. “He won’t leave the study alive.”

Inukimi nodded. “I hope that is a promise, Bankotsu-san,” she said. “Because I cannot guarantee your life if you are not successful.”

“Don’t worry, Miyazawa-san,” he said. “I promise you, your husband will not live to see the end of the party.”

“Good,” she nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“If I may ask, Miyazawa-san,” Jakotsu said suddenly, “what are your plans for the ‘inheritance’? After all, you have a son who is of age. You will get nothing.”

“Sesshomaru does whatever I tell him to,” she replied gamely. “It will be no problem running the company with him as a figurehead.” She turned to Ryukotusei and ran her hand up his arm. “And then you and I, darling,” she whispered, leaning close to his cheek, “will be in charge of the largest shipping conglomerate in all of Japan.”

Toga and Izayoi watched, in horror, as Inukimi and Ryukotsusei kissed. It was...so much more than Izayoi could have expected. It did indeed look like Inukimi and Ryukotsusei _were_ having an affair, but even more that there...there was a...murder plot...against Toga?

_What_?

Inukimi and Ryukotsusei finally broke apart, Inukimi turned a scathing eye on the other three men. “Two days’ time,” she said. “You will meet Ryukotsusei here at approximately 5pm the day of the party. He will offer you further instructions. I cannot attend the meeting, because I must remain at the house and oversee preparations. But I trust Ryu to handle things, as I trust all of you to not breathe a word of this. If you do,” she looked at each of them in turn, and Izayoi could practically feel the heat from her glare, “you will regret that you even knew the name Miyazawa Inukimi.” She rose, and the four men rose as well. “I expect to never see you again, gentlemen,” she said. “Ryu has your money, and will be wiring half to your accounts now, and the other half when the job is complete.” She bowed briefly. “Thank you for being here,” she added. “Your discretion and your action will be appreciated.”

The men bowed in return. “We will be discreet, Miyazawa-san,” Bankotsu replied. “That’s why you hired us, right? We’ll get the job done for you.” The three men turned, and left the warehouse, the door clanging behind them in their wake.

Once they were gone, Inukimi turned to Ryukotsusei. “Same place, as always, one hour?”

“Make it two,” he told her. “I have some place to go, first.”

She huffed. “Fine,” she said. “Two hours. But I can’t stay long today; I am expected back at the manor to discuss food options for the party.”

Ryukotsusei rose first, then pulled back Inukimi’s chair and helped her to stand. She kissed his cheek. “Until later, darling?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll have a surprise for you then.”

“I look forward to it,” she said lightly, again trailing her fingers along his arm. “I’ll see you soon.” And Inukimi left the building. Ryukotsusei watched her go, then sighed, and then followed after her, leaving Toga and Izayoi once again alone in the warehouse.

Neither of them could breath; neither of them could speak. Izayoi’s mind was reeling. How had she missed the affair? She’d been following Inukimi faithfully all this time; never once had the inu youkai gone to a love hotel or anything! All she had done was shop. Unless…

“They aren’t meeting that often,” Toga surmised, his voice soft. Izayoi looked at him with surprise in her eyes. “All Inukimi has done since you’ve been following her is go shopping, correct? That means that their trysts are more random, for some reason.” Toga paused and stroked his chin thoughtfully, one golden eye flickering towards Izayoi. 

“Toga,” Izayoi breathed, “you...you’re in danger.”

“Izayoi, my dear,” he laughed softly, and _how her body responded when he used that term of endearment_ , “I am in danger every single day of my life. What’s two more days until the party?” He paused. “I will be fine. Trust me.”

“I trust _you_ ,” Izayoi said, taking care not to let her voice get too heated, “I don’t trust Inukimi or Ryukotsusei or the Shichinintai.”

“Do you know who they are, Izayoi?” he asked her.

“I sure as fuck _do_ ,” she spat, her language surprising him. “And they are _dangerous_ , Toga. I—I’m worried about you. I’m worried that Inukimi might suspect that you know something. That she might act before the party. I—I—I—”

“You what, Izayoi?” he asked her, his handsome face concerned.

“I don’t think you should go home tonight!” she blurted out, then immediately blushed at the insinuation.

“I think that I can handle myself, Izayoi,” Toga said, chuckling. “Do you know who I am? Do you know that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself?”

“I don’t care.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I don’t think you are safe. You _need_ to look out for yourself, Toga. Your safety? It’s now my top priority.”

“And you think that my son would allow his mother to commit such an act, were he to know?” he asked her. “Do you think that I trust my son so little? I doubt that he has any inkling of her plan, and if he did, he wouldn’t approve of it.”

“Even if that’s true,” Izayoi insisted, “I still can’t imagine him taking a stand against his mother. Or you. Why put him in the middle? Why bring him into this…” Her eyes grew wide. “He could be in danger, too, Toga. You don’t know _what’s_ going on in that mind of hers.”

Toga sighed. “Fine,” he said softly. “You _do_ at least have a point about Sesshomaru…”

“And about _you_ ,” she said, the head rising in her voice. “I am _worried about you_ , too.”

“Then let me ask you this, Izayoi,” replied Toga, “what would you have me do? If I don’t go home, there will be questions. If I check into a hotel, Inukimi can track me. So what should I do?”

“Say you have a sudden work engagement that is taking you out of town,” she said immediately. “Say that it’s pressing, and you need to leave immediately. And…”

Toga reached out and caressed her cheek. “And what?” he pressed, although in a soft tone.

Izayoi took a breath. What did she want? What could she ask for? 

It was true that he was handsome, and sexy, and kind. That he didn’t deserve to have his femme fatale of a wife trying to kill him. That anything he did would be easily trackable. 

And yet...she wanted to protect him. Keep him safe. For as long as she could. Until they could figure something out.

_Yes_ , she thought. _Yes. That’s it. That’s what it can be._

“I think that…” she exhaled slowly, allowing the words and her breath to wash over her. “I think that...so we can plan our next move...you should come home with me.”

Toga’s violet eyes were thoughtful. They were laden with affection, with desire, with something more, Izayoi thought? 

“I should...come home with _you_?” he repeated, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Just to plan things out,” she said immediately. “We need to talk about what we heard today, and we need to figure out what to do. In the meantime,” she added, “you need to go to work. Put in a few hours. Feign the phone call. Make it believable. I need to go to the office and see if the Akami family has called. But here.” She pulled out a business card and a pen, and wrote her home address on the card. “Seven o’clock. I’ll get takeout. Anything you don’t like?”

He smiled—in spite of his trepidations, she could tell. 

“You know I don’t need protecting?” he tried again.

“You _do_.” Her tone was final. He grinned at her stubbornness.

“Okay, Izayoi...okay.” He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched; she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. “I like everything,” he said, and she shivered at the double meaning. “I will meet you at your place at seven. I don’t know if I will stay, though. Can you accept that?”

“Yes,” she breathed, “I can, and I hope you like ramen.”

* * *

Seven o’clock came and went, and Izayoi was now pacing the floor of her washitsu, her slippered feet practically wearing a tread in the tatami. He...was late. Toga was...late.

Was it possible that he wouldn’t come after all?

Of course it was. Izayoi had known it from the moment that she asked that he might not say yes. Because...he was married. He was married, and gorgeous, and warm, and kind, and did she mention _gorgeous_? 

What could he possibly want with a girl like her? With a human?

But ultimately, when it came down to it, Izayoi _was_ legitimately worried about Toga. She knew that Inukimi’s plan was to murder Toga the night of the charity event, but she couldn’t help feeling like he was in danger in his own house now, all the time. What if the moment arose and Inukimi decided to kill him herself? Although she knew that Inukimi seemed too smart to do something like that, Izayoi still worried. 

She wanted to make sure Toga was okay. Because...she liked him. _A lot_. Way more than a single woman had the right to like a married man. But, after what they saw today? Did Toga even _count_ as married anymore? She couldn’t say. She assumed, yes, but at the same time...

She couldn’t deny what her heart was telling her. She couldn’t deny the way that her body responded to his touch. She couldn’t deny that she…

That there were all kinds of reasons that she should stay away from him.

The whole _married_ thing was of course one massive reason. But he was also her client, and she was in his employ. She was working on a case for him, and she had already bent her own rules by allowing a client to accompany her on a case. And now, she was bending them even further by allowing the very same client to visit her at her home.

Where she hoped to...to do what, exactly? Eat ramen? Strategize?

Worship what she knew had to be an insanely hot, beautiful body under those sophisticated clothes? 

A sharp knock at the door drew Izayoi out of her reverie. She shook her head, smoothed down her shirt, and went to the door. She looked through the peephole, and sure enough, it was a human Toga, standing on her doorstep, peering in at her. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, and then opened the door.

“Hey,” she said, stepping out of the way to let him in.

“Hey,” he said, crossing the threshold into her apartment. He slipped off his shoes in the small genkan and, after she closed the door, removed his fanged bracelet and put it in his pants pocket. Izayoi watched, fascinated, as his appearance slowly shimmered back to what it was before: luminous silver hair, turquoise stripes adorning his cheeks, a hint of fangs peeking out from between his lips. Pointy ears. Clawed fingers. Izayoi looked him over appreciatively, glad to see him back to himself.

“Your apartment is…” he said, looking around and clearly trying to find a polite word.

Izayoi laughed. “Small,” she said, leading him into the washitsu. “You can say it.”

“Cozy,” he said instead, and they laughed together. 

“You were late,” Izayoi said.

He winked at her, and she felt her heart flutter. “You told me to make an emergency at work where I had to travel,” he told her. “That kind of facade takes time, Izayoi. Please forgive me for being late.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, all the worry gone now that he was there. Come in. We can sit at the chabudai.” She led him into the washitsu. “I ordered ramen; it’s already on the table. What would you like to drink? I have beer, or I can make you something.”

“What will you drink?” he asked her instead.

“I like beer with my ramen,” she said.

“Beer, then, as well,” he replied.

Izayoi tried not to smile too broadly as she dipped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She pulled out two cans of Sapporo (they reminded her of home) and cracked them open, then brought them back into the chabudai. Toga had already opened the takeout bags, and set one bowl of ramen in front of himself, and another at the side of the table directly to his left. He had placed chopsticks, a spoon, and a napkin neatly by the side of the bowl, and was waiting patiently for her return. Izayoi noted with pleasure that he had even seated himself properly—kneeling, not cross-legged, as she normally sat—and resolved that she would sit that way, too.

“You don’t have to sit this way, Izayoi,” Toga commented, as though reading her mind, as she sank to her knees and struggled to remember how her feet should rest.

“And you don’t have to sit that way, either,” she retorted lightly, sliding a beer over to him. He accepted and lifted it to cheers her; they clinked cans and said “Kanpai!” and each took a careful drink. They set down their beers, broke apart their chopsticks, and looked at each other, smiling.

“Itadakimasu!” they chorused, and dug in.

[ ](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/post/641329915889909760/im-alive-i-swear-ive-been-working-like-a)

Commissioned Artwork by [clementinesgulag](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Izayoi ate her ramen with fervor. It was still hot, and the soft boiled egg was lovely and gooey. The pork was perfectly tender, and nearly came apart on her chopsticks; she was going to need a spoon to sop it all up. She ate, and ate, lost in her own little world of al dente noodles, succulent pork, and crisp, flavorful vegetables. She closed her eyes and slurped down the soup greedily, relishing the umami flavor on her tongue. As she ate, she gradually became aware that Toga was not eating his own ramen, but was, instead, watching her, beer in hand, an amused smile playing on his delicious lips. Izayoi wondered what it would be like to lick the broth from them, and immediately blushed at her own thoughts.

“You...like ramen, huh?” he asked her, his smile growing broader, a fang peeking out and pressing into his lower lip. Izayoi thought it was _adorable_.

“It’s my favorite thing to eat in the whole world,” she gushed, still eating even as she spoke. “I have it almost every night for dinner. I don’t think I could ever get tired of it.” At the pained expression on his face, Izayoi paused mid-noodle. “Do you...not like ramen?” she asked.

Toga shook his head. “It’s fine,” he replied. “I just don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone enjoy ramen as much as...you.”

[ ](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/post/641329915889909760/im-alive-i-swear-ive-been-working-like-a)

Commissioned Artwork by [clementinesgulag](https://clementinesgulag.tumblr.com/)

* * *

“I really do love it,” she said, shoving some more noodles into her mouth. When Toga chuckled, she scowled.

“Do you always order it out?” he asked her.

“Sometimes I have a whole bunch and then save it for a few days,” she replied. “I’m out of my homemade stuff, so I decided to order from the little hole-in-the-wall place down the street. It’s one of my favorite places, too.”

“It’s quite good,” he told her, delicately selecting a piece of pork and placing it on his tongue (Izayoi could _not_ stop watching him, either), “but I’d be much more interested in the ramen that you make.”

“I’m not much of a cook,” she scoffed.

“And yet it would be made from your heart,” he assured her. 

Izayoi froze. He was...asking her...to make him ramen?

Well...if that was the case? She’d make him the best goddamn ramen in the entire world.

“Yes,” she said softly, “I would love to make you ramen.”

They ate in silence for several moments before Toga spoke again. “So did you hear from that ookami girl’s family today?” he asked her. “Or do I get to go hunt some wolf?”

“Oh!” Izayoi jumped up and ran back into the genkan. She grabbed her bag and brought it to the chabudai, opening it up in front of Toga. She pulled a note from the bag and, putting her bag on the floor, slipped the note across the table to Toga, who brushed his fingers over hers as he gently picked it up. She smiled softly at him; he returned the smile, allowing his fingers to curl momentarily over hers.

He...he felt...warm, and strong, and _right_. And this was only his fingers! What might the rest of him feel like, pressed up against her, warm, and a perfect mix of soft and hard? 

She was starting to imagine him doing...all kinds of things…to her. Dragging her up and over the chabudai, bowls of ramen flying everywhere. His fangs teasing apart her lips; his hands finding their way between the buttons of her shirt. Maybe ripping them from the bodice. Maybe…

And then his hand pulled away from hers, and as quickly as it had started, Izayoi’s fantasy ended. Toga was again looking at her strangely, as though she smelled odd or had something on her face. His look settled back into a casual, easy smile, and he took the paper that she had left on the chabudai between his fingers and up towards his face so he could read it.

_Dear Izayoi-san,_ the note read. _Thank you so much for all of your help. We went to my parents, and you and your friend were right! All is well at home, and my parents are planning a big mating party for us for when I turn 18. Apparently for ookami it’s a big ritual with lots of presents and a party, so if I had done this without my parents’ permission, it would have looked bad—like I was showing them up. So, this way, we are doing things right and honoring my parents and their wishes. Thank you again, and maybe we’ll invite you and your tall, handsome friend to the party! —Akami Ayame_

Toga looked up from the note to Izayoi’s smiling face. “Too bad,” he said, smirking as he passed the note back to her. “It’s been way too long since I had the opportunity to hunt some wolf.”

“You don’t like ookami very much, Toga, do you?” Izayoi asked.

Toga snorted, and Izayoi nearly burst out laughing at the decidedly un-gentlemanly-like thing that had just come out of the most gentlemanly person she knew. “Dogs hate wolves,” he said carefully. “Ookami are nasty and mangy. They would rather live in the hills and mountains and starve, instead of joining us down here, with all the people, and trying to fit in.”

“Why don’t they want to fit in?” Izayoi asked.

“Because they embrace their ookami identity,” he grimaced. “They love being bloodthirsty, mangy, and just all around bad. They raise their children to be so much the same.”

“Violence begets violence, Toga,” said Izayoi softly.

“Keh,” he retorted, his face still twisted in anger. “You want to know what the ookami did to the inu-youkai? Too much. Too fucking much.” He picked up the can of beer and took a long, long drink. Izayoi could see his Adam’s apple bobbing; she could practically feel the resentment streaming off his body. 

Wolves, and dogs…

Actually, she had never thought about it before, but...it made sense.

That ookami and inu youkai...would _not_ get along.

“It’s still nice that we were able to help them, yes?” she asked, a warm, reassuring smile crossing her face.

Toga set the beer down on the chabudai and went back to eating his ramen. “My wife,” he said instead. “Let’s talk about my wife.”

Clearly, ookami and inu youkai... _really_ disliked each other. Enough that he wanted to talk about Inukimi. Izayoi again suppressed a giggle.

“Your wife,” Izayoi said, “is trying to kill you.”

“Even if I didn’t know about this insane assassination plot,” he responded, “I can still say with total confidence that I will not be dying at the hands of humans.”

“They’re the _Shichinintai_ , Toga,” Izayoi insisted. “They’re human, but also _not_ . It’s like they’re...more feral, more driven by instinct. And their instinct is driven by greed. So pay them a lot of money—like, a _lot_ of money—and they’ll become the most reckless and the most dangerous men in Japan. And they already were before.” Izayoi shivered. “You don’t want to mess with them, Toga. If you can keep yourself out of that house—as far away from that house as possible until the party would be ideal, but also I know not logical—then I can also help to protect you.”

“What will you do, Izayoi?” Toga asked. “What’s your advice?”

“I just gave it to you,” Izayoi said hotly. “Stay away from that house, from that woman, and let me protect you.” 

“And how will you do that?” Toga asked again. 

“I...I…” Fuck, she didn’t know. But she just knew that all her instincts were screaming at her not to let Toga go back home. That it was _dangerous there_. That if he went home, he might not live to see the morning, no matter what he thought. 

“Izayoi.” She hadn’t noticed it, but he was suddenly at her side of chabudai, and he had her hands in his. When did that happen? _How_ did it happen? His golden eyes blazed down at her; she could practically feel the heat radiating off them. “You...you would want to protect...me?”

“I—Of course I would.” She meant it, too. She would protect him with every part of her body, every part of her soul. 

“And how would you do that?” His face was soft and still slightly amused. “You do know that I’m inu youkai, right? And you’re a tiny human?” He scoffed. “What do you think you could do?”

“I’m a good shot, and a decent fighter,” she retorted, but her voice had lost its heat. 

He chuckled. “Somehow,” he said, “I can see that about you.”

“What do you mean, somehow—”

But then Toga was on her, kissing her, pressing his lips against hers, lifting her up into his arms and setting her on his lap so that she straddled his hips. His body was firm underneath his work shirt; her hands were already working their way inside the fabric, between the buttons. When her fingers hit bare skin, he moaned softly, and she used the opportunity to probe his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth eagerly to her, and she dove into its heat, pushing against his tongue, exploring him fully. His own tongue wrestled with hers, and the feel of him resisting her was making her burn all the hotter for him. 

He felt...amazing, and warm, and thick, and strong. Izayoi needed to feel _all_ of him, immediately. 

But…

“Toga,” she whispered. “We...we can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” he whispered against her lips.

“I can’t…”

He pressed his lips to hers. “Kiss me?” he breathed.

“I mean...yes...I can kiss you,” she murmured.

“Then what’s the problem?” he whispered, teasing her hair with his claws.

“No...no problem,” she breathed. “But...Inukimi…”

“Forget her,” he said huskily, now moving his lips, his kisses covering her jawline, the hollow of her throat, to juncture of her neck and shoulder, where he began to nibble at the skin there, gently, his fangs teasing her skin. “She’s no longer my wife. She’s longer my concern.”

“I thought,” she sighed, her fingers taking apart the buttons of his shirt, “you weren’t gonna stay.”

“Who said I had to stay?” He was now openly laving her neck, and her breaths were becoming fast, and hard, and she was having a hard time working apart those damn buttons. 

She giggled, and then moaned, when his fangs dragged along her throat again. She finally unbuttoned the last button, and she pulled his shirt out of his pants, shoving it back, down his arms, off his body, leaving his chest bare. She ran her hands over the bare skin, feeling his muscles tensing at her touch. 

“Izayoi.” His voice was deep, and rough with need, even as his fangs still toyed with her flesh. “I...I would like to feel you, too.”

Izayoi’s breath hitched. “Bedroom,” she whispered. 

Toga immediately let go of her neck and helped her to rise. He stood up behind her, his arms around her waist, his face once again buried in her neck. His hands were everywhere— _everywhere_ —and Izayoi softly called his name.

“This way,” she breathed, and led him gently down the hall, past the bath and laundry, to a pocket door at the end of the hallway. She pushed it open, and revealed her bedroom to him. 

It was, like the rest of her apartment, sparse; she only had a futon, with some pillows and blankets, and a dresser, and a closet. She turned, snagged him by his belt, and slowly drew him into the room. She had a moment now to fully admire Toga: his torso, as she had expected, was muscled, and a beautiful bronze color; the turquoise stripes on his cheeks adorned his arms, starting behind his elbow and curling towards his wrists, as well as his torso. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, and he pushed her backwards, Izayoi still clinging to his belt and stumbling back. He chuckled, then grabbed her by the waist and held her firmly. Izayoi looked up; his golden eyes were blazing, holding her gaze steady; she could not look away if she tried. Toga leaned forward, capturing her lips with his, rubbing against them, trying to feel as much of her in the moment as he could.

Izayoi nearly went limp from the force of the kiss. Instead, she used his support to begin to unbuckle his belt, working it through the loops and tossing it aside. Her next step was to begin to tackle the button and zipper of his khakis; like the belt, she was able to make quick work of them, and before she knew it, they were open and she was working her hand inside.

Toga groaned against her lips when her fingers found the soft fur of his groin, which they followed down until they rested on the thick, veiny, pulsing shaft of his cock. He growled when she touched him there, and when her fingers were able to circle it and stroke it softly, she felt her own body responding, the juncture of her thighs growing warm from just the friction of her hands on him. She knew that, as much as she was enjoying him, from the way his cock was springing to life in his pants, he was also enjoying _her_.

“Remember, Izayoi,” he breathed, “I still want to feel you.” His fingers went to the fasteners of her shirt; slowly, deliberately, he worked them apart. Button by button, he revealed the shimmering flesh of her decolletage, already glistening with sweat as she tried to conceal how badly she wanted him. Toga paused, gently pulling her shirt out of her pants, and she allowed him to slip it over her shoulders, and down her arms. He tossed the shirt aside, then turned his golden eyes back onto her, and they gleamed as they took in her nearly naked torso, her creamy bra the only thing standing between them being fully nude from the waist up.

“Gods, Izayoi,” he breathed, “you’re _beautiful_.” And he kissed her once, softly, then moved his lips again down, over her jawline, her neck, her shoulder. He kissed her collarbones; he kissed the soft swell of one breast, then the other. Izayoi tangled her hands in his hair, reveling in its silkiness, and keened quietly when he pressed a kiss to each breast, through her bra, right over her nipples. 

“Can...can we…?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said immediately, his face now between her breasts, one hand on each. He was pressing them into the sides of his face, and Izayoi could _feel_ the love that he was lavishing on her in the moment. His hands dropped to her waist, and toyed with the button of her pants. When he looked up at her, she saw that his eyes were questioning: full of need. For _her_. 

“May I?” he asked, tugging lightly on her pants.

“You...you may,” she replied, nearly breathless from his actions already. Before she could even finish out the words, he was unbuttoning the fly, dragging down the zipper, slipping her pants over her hips, and down her legs. She lifted one foot delicately, then the other, as he removed her pants and tossed them aside. He was on his knees, and he looked up at her again, his face so like a puppy’s—bright, and begging—that she giggled a little.

“May I?” he asked again.

“You may,” she said warmly, then cried out when he pressed his face between the soft folds of her sex. 

She...she hadn’t realized that he’d removed her panties too. But holy gods in all the heavens, when he began to tease the small bundles of nerves tucked away with his fangs, she nearly came undone instantly. He knew _just_ how to tease, lap, and swirl, and within seconds she was gripping his shoulders and begging for more. He growled appreciatively at her soft moans and whispers of his name, and his nimble fingers deftly gripped her hips, pulling her close as he sought to taste her even more deeply.

When his tongue penetrated her opening, Izayoi’s moans grew louder, and her grip on his shoulders grew tighter. He now worked quickly, dropping one hand to meet his tongue, gently probing her with the pad of one, then another, clawed finger. He massaged her walls lightly as his tongue ran the whole of her sex, teasing first her clit, then back down to meet his fingers. He was talented, and Izayoi was barely able to stand upright.

It had been...awhile...since a man had made her feel so alive. But here she was, in her bedroom, with a handsome inu youkai turning her to absolute putty with every lick, caress, and tease. She felt a quickening inside her, starting with her pulsing muscles and working its way through the rest of her groin, her belly, and all the rest of her body. She was stretched so taut that she felt that at any minute, she wouldn’t be able to hold on anymore, and she would need to collapse onto the floor, completely overcome.

“Izayoi,” he growled, his face full of her, and the deep timbre of his voice—the way that it tumbled through her—was too much, and she did buckle over his body, calling for him. Toga caught her with one arm as she came, weeping and babbling as he eagerly lapped up her juices and rumbled happily at her pleasure.

As he slipped his fingers from inside her, Toga lifted Izayoi easily into his arms. He kissed her softly, and she opened her mouth in a quiet moan: unable to speak, unable to do much save to meet his lips and accept the sweep of his tongue inside her mouth. He carried her to the futon, and laid her down; her eyes slowly becoming refocused, she watched as he stood a careful distance away, his golden eyes taking in her form.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, “and so sexy, and so delicious.”

“And so yours,” she whispered back.

“Yes,” he breathed, “you _are_ mine.” He placed his hands on the waistband of his pants, and began to slide them down, over his hips, down his muscular thighs, his calves, then, lifting one foot at a time, he removed his pants, his boxers, and his socks. He stood before her, and in her slightly unfocused state, she began to breathe heavily at the sight of him nude before her. Her eyes followed the muscular outline of his chest, down his abs, over his toned stomach, to the thin trail of silver fur that started just below his navel, and became thicker and softer as it traveled down, over his groin, and surrounding his…

Cock. His glorious, thick, _cock_.

Izayoi had never quite seen anything like him. She had been with human men, of course, but Toga was taller than any man she’d ever known, and apparently with his height also came...length. And thickness. The thought of him ramming into her, over and over, was making her writhe and rub her thighs together in anticipation. 

Toga chuckled. “Do you like what you see, Izayoi?” he said playfully, softly, dropping to his knees at the end of the futon. He leaned forward, covering her body with his, and as he pressed his lips to hers, she dragged her hands down his chest, over his stomach, and when she reached his cock, she circled it with her fingers, and began to stroke him hard, squeezing up, from the base to the tip, and rubbing her thumb under the foreskin of the mushroom head. 

Toga let out a low, guttural groan when she did that, his tongue driving into her mouth and ravaging her fully. Izayoi increased her pumps, drawing her hand up faster and faster, her own need reigniting between the feel of his cock growing hard in her hand, and the feel of his tongue harshly exploring her mouth. Her body writhed underneath him, her aching need taking over. Her other hand dragged up his back, her nails digging into his skin, and he jerked back suddenly, out of her hand, Izayoi gasping and grabbing after him.

“Now, now,” he teased her, “do you want me to fuck you, Fujimura Izayoi?”

“Don’t—don’t _tease_ me, Toga,” she growled, reaching for him again. “I _need you_.”

He dropped back over her, and ran his tongue up the length of her body, from her clit, over her stomach, up between her breasts, over her collarbones, up her throat, over her jaw, and up to her lips. “You need me, huh?” he chuckled, his tongue dancing across her lips. She moaned and tried to kiss him, but he moved away, and she growled again.

“Condom first,” he warned her, a twinkle in his golden eyes. “I came prepared.” She let out a breathy sigh from the anticipation. Toga turned back to his pants, and pulled out his wallet. He opened it, and took out a condom, his eyes on her the entire time. She moaned softly as she watched him open it, flick the rubber until the tip popped out, and then rolled it gently over his cock. Toga approached her again, and she opened her legs eagerly, ready to accept him, _all_ of him. He knelt before her, and ran his hands up her legs, squeezing her thighs, and as his hands trailed back up her body, he positioned himself over her, his cock stiff and ready to enter her.

“Are you ready, Izayoi?” Toga whispered.

Izayoi nodded. “I am _so_ ready, Toga,” she breathed. “Please.”

Toga leaned forward and kissed her softly, his lips covering hers as he pressed gently inside her.

Even through the latex, Izayoi could feel the heat, and the size, of his cock, and she moaned softly against his lips. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, allowing her to stretch to accommodate his girth, and when she tipped her head up to kiss him, and rolled her hips slightly against his, he took the signal and began to move, his lips on his hers, on her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders...anywhere that he could reach.

Izayoi met his thrusts in a halting rhythm, adjusting to his motions and following him easily as he rolled his hips and moved in her slowly, languidly, setting her entire body aflame. She could feel her muscles expanding and contracting with every push and pull; she sighed and tangled her hands in his hair, drawing him up for a deep, passionate kiss. 

Burning. She was burning. Her walls were tensing and burning and her body was tingling and she could barely put together rational thoughts. His kisses were loving, teasing; when he slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips and she licked his ear and he _howled_ lowly, deeply, darkly.

“Izayoi.” His voice was rough with lust. She simply tugged him to her more tightly, their bodies so melded together it was hard to know where one ended and the other began. Her breasts were crushed to his chest; when her clit rubbed up against the soft fur above his cock, her body nearly went limp from the pleasure, and she _knew_ :

Toga. He was the _one_. The one she was meant to be with. The one that she wanted, above all others.

The one she wanted to spend her life with.

Was it possible to fall in love in just a few days? To feel as though one had found the person they were meant to be with? Was it possible to feel as though she wanted more of him, _all_ of him, and that she could never have enough? Toga knew just how to make her body sing; how to make her soul quake. His life? It was hers to protect. And her life? It was hers to offer up to protect him. 

Every thrust, every move they made together, was carrying Izayoi higher and higher, her moans and his softs grunts and sweet whispers creating a melody unlike any she had ever heard before. She wanted time to both stop and speed up. She wanted to let go completely, and hold on for as long as she could. 

And then he swiveled his hips, and kissed her, and when she massaged his fangs with her tongue, he moaned, and drove into her so deeply her body exploded with the heat of their coupling. Izayoi cried out, her entire lower half both tensed and quivering. “Izayoi,” Toga murmured, fucking her slowly, gently, tenderly, “Izayoi, love.” He continued to move in her, even as she shook, even as she clung to him and sobbed out her orgasm. 

“T—Toga,” she cried, having never been so affected by a man as she had by him. In the frenzy of her orgasm, which was still shooting through her in waves as his cock throbbed, Izayoi buried her face in his neck and lapped at him frantically, desperate for him to find his own release. She...she needed him to cum. She needed to know that he felt the same—that his own body was powerless to stop the forces that had brought them together.

He growled at her ministrations, and as she continued to squeeze his dick, her orgasm still coming (had she ever orgasmed this hard or this long before?), she felt him grow impossibly hard, and larger, and he howled her name as he sought his own release and emptied into the condom. Izayoi held him, stroked his hair, kissed him softly, as he thrust into her, over and over, his body still jerking from the force of his own orgasm. He collapsed onto her, and she took on his full weight as he wrapped his body around hers and nuzzled her, closely, tightly, his breaths short and gasping and hot against her cheek. She curled against his chest, her fingers grasping at his searing skin.

They lay there together, for several minutes, simply enjoying the feel of their bodies intertwined, Toga still buried inside her. Reluctantly, he withdrew, and she whimpered at the loss of his heat. He sat up, removed the condom, and tossed it into the wastebasket near the bed. He grabbed a blanket from the end of the futon, and pulled it up and over them both. Toga circled Izayoi’s shoulders with his arm and drew her close; she rolled onto her side and tossed an arm across his chest.

“That...that was,” he breathed.

“Perfect,” she said.

He tipped her head up so their eyes could meet; she shivered at the intensity in his gaze. He bent down slowly and kissed her yet again. This time, though, the kiss was loving, and sated, and full of all the emotions that had been jostled and forced to the surface in the midst of their lovemaking. When they broke apart, Izayoi could see a soft smile playing on Toga’s lips, one fang peeking out at her.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It was...perfect.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izayoi and Toga enjoy a few moments of happiness before it is ripped away. Izayoi springs into action. Toga is enraged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Izayoi, or Toga, or any of the characters from the Inuyasha manga and/or anime.
> 
> Hello everyone! I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and doing well.
> 
> Here it is--the last chapter of Hardboiled! My apologies that it's taken a minute to get it out to you, but I hope it was worth the wait. Please enjoy!
> 
> (And a special thanks to kalcia for inspiring one very important scene in this chapter!)

The smell of coffee woke Izayoi out of a sound sleep. She stretched her entire body, slowly; she raised her arms over her head, and pulled them away from her body. She continued the stretch going down: she shifted her shoulders, made her torso taut, then slowly stretched out one leg, then another. She turned slightly to feel the space beside her on the futon, but it was empty. Her heart froze for a moment, then she saw the shirt, neatly folded atop her dresser, and she smiled.

He hadn’t left. He was still here.

He was making her _coffee_.

Izayoi sat up, her body still a little stiff, but thrumming with the brilliance of her activities with Toga the night before. They had made love several times, and each time had been glorious; her body had reacted to his with such perfection, it really was like they had been made for each other. She couldn’t explain why, or how, she felt this way, but as she thought back to the night—to the way that he made her body quake and keen and sigh and lost control, over and over, she knew…

She had to tell him how she felt. She had to find out if, when all this was over, if they maybe stood a chance at seeing if _this_ was a thing, and if so, where this _thing_ was maybe going.

Izayoi slid off the futon and got to her feet. She went to her closet, and pulled out a simple bathing yukata. She tied her hair up in a ponytail, tugging at the strands to pull it taut. She rubbed her face in her hands to give it a little life, then made her way outside the bedroom.

The smell of coffee, and something else—something _delicious_ , if her senses were properly awake—and drawing her to the kitchen.

She shuffled into the washitsu, and turned towards the kitchen, allowing her nose to lead the way. What she saw as she turned her head was Toga, shirtless, his muscular back, adorned with turquoise stripes that she found endlessly sexy, standing over her cooktop, making...something?

“You’re awake.” His low, rumbly voice in the morning made Izayoi heart stutter. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her cheek against his back. 

“Good morning,” she murmured. “You smell amazing.” And he did: like musk, and sex, and her blankets. 

He smelled like _them_.

He chuckled. “Good morning yourself,” he said, still not looking at her, all his attention on the food in front of him on the cooktop. “You _also_ smell amazing, Izayoi.”

“Toga,” she murmured, her face rubbing against his bare skin. She was already feeling like she needed him again; how was that even possible?

“Not now, love,” he said, the laughter still bubbling in his throat. He turned off the cooktop and turned around in her arms to face her. “Now,” he murmured, tilting her face up to meet his, “How about a proper good morning kiss?”

Izayoi gave him one, freely, happily, and whined when he unhooked her from around his chest. “Go have a seat,” he told her. “I’ve made breakfast.”

“What did you make?” Izayoi asked, trying to see around him.

Toga covered her eyes with his hand, his laughter now coming forth, full and throaty. “You’ll see, love,” he told her. “Now, go.” He turned her around, and gave her ass a push. She huffed, but obeyed, going back over to the chabudai and flopping down, her arms crossed, her breath causing her bangs to fly up, like an adorable, petulant child.

She sat the chabudai, her chin resting in her hands, as she watched Toga bustle about her kitchen. It was...nice...to have him there, to watch him taking care of her. It was also kind of hard to believe? That Taisho Toga, shipping magnate Taisho Toga, knew his way around a kitchen? But really, Izayoi thought, she shouldn’t be surprised. The man was beyond worldly, she decided. He was, like their sex the night before, _perfect_.

“Here,” he said, breaking her out of her reverie by placing a tray in front of her. Izayoi blinked, and took in the tray and its contents, then looked up at Toga.

“Where...did you find all this?” Izayoi was astounded. She had no idea she had this kind of food in her kitchen. Toga had made a beautiful tamagoyaki, and served it with miso soup, rice, and tsukemono. He had also placed a steaming mug of coffee on the tray, as well as chopsticks, a spoon, and a napkin.

“I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. 

“No sugar, a little milk,” she said.

“I’ll be back,” he said.

“It’s okay!” she called to his retreating back. He raised a hand as if to say, _don’t even protest_ , and she settled down to admire his beautiful breakfast.

Toga returned quickly, with his own tray, as well as a small pitcher of milk. Izayoi gaped. “Where did you find _this_?” she asked incredulously, gesturing at the milk pitcher.

“In your cabinet with the bowls and plates?” he replied wonderingly. “Do you not know what it is in your own cabinets?”

Fuck. Maybe she didn’t.

Izayoi busied herself pouring her milk. Toga settled in to watch her, an amused smile on his face. She handed him the milk, but he waved it off, and she set it on the chabudai. They looked at each other, picked up their chopsticks, and said “Itadakimasu” before digging in.

Toga’s tamagoyaki was _gorgeous_ ; Izayoi had bought a pan to make it in some time before, with the full intention of learning the craft. But, like so many other things domestic, tamagoyaki making was a whim that was quickly replaced by something else. Izayoi just found that, other than ramen, she really didn’t have time to...cook. 

Or do anything else around the apartment, for that matter. That was why she kept it as sparse as she did. The less that was around, the less likely she was to make a mess, and the easier it was to clean.

And the less she kept around, the fewer memories she accrued.

“So what are our plans for today?” Toga asked her, delicately taking a bite of his tamagoyaki.

Izayoi frowned. “ _Your_ plan,” she said, scowling, “is to go to work, where people can keep an eye on you. _My_ plan is to go back to the warehouse, and today, follow Ryukotsusei.”

“You had me create a big ‘work emergency’ where I had to leave the office overnight,” Toga reminded her gently. “So I can’t very well go into the office, now, can I?” He set down his chopsticks, crossed his arms, and looked at her smugly. “So it looks like you’re stuck with me today.”

“Fine,” she huffed. While it was true that Toga had certainly been helpful, there was a reason that she worked alone. A reason that she didn’t take on partners, and that Myoga was her only employee. Fujimura Izayoi trusted no one, save for herself and her secretary. People always let her down; her parents—her _mother_ —were incapable of helping her. 

But now? Maybe she trusted Toga, and she maybe was okay with him tagging along. He’d been incredibly helpful in returning the Akami girl to her family, and he’d been an okay tagalong at the warehouse the day before. And after last night…

Izayoi felt her face grow hot, and she heard Toga chuckle. She whipped her head around to face him. “What’s so funny?” she demanded. 

“You,” he told her, his eyes sparkling. “Do you ever _not_ want to have sex?”

“How—what— _how_?” She knew she was sputtering, and that it wasn’t a good look, but she didn’t really care. When Toga pointed a clawed finger at her, then tapped his nose, grinning, she blushed even more deeply. 

Of course. Damn inu youkai and their noses. Izayoi took one deep breath in, let it now, and then took in another breath.

“Well,” she told him heatedly, until last night, I definitely did not!”

Toga just kept tapping on his nose and smiling. Izayoi growled, and shot to her feet. 

“I think I’m going to take a shower, and get ready to go to the office,” she said, trying to keep herself under control. “Even if you don’t have a job to get to today, I still have one to do.”

Toga got to his feet and pulled her flush with his chest. Her nipples immediately pebbled through the thin fabric of the yukata. He tilted her chin up so he could capture her gaze.

“You know,” he said, his golden eyes twinkling mischievously, “I’m also pretty dirty. I think that a shower is just what _both_ of us need.”

“I—I have to get ready for work,” she protested, but she knew it was weak.

“And I have to get ready to accompany you,” he reminded her. “One shower, we save water?”

And as he leaned forward to press his lips to hers, Izayoi found that she couldn’t possibly say no, that she couldn’t possibly resist. All she could do was moan softly and return his kisses.

Because, in the end, she wanted him, too.

* * *

Izayoi stood in front of her closet, looking through her clothes, trying to figure out what to wear. She was still a little wobbly; Toga had been _very_ attentive to her in the shower, and she was honestly surprised that her legs were not yet jelly after all the... _fun_...that she and Toga had been having. She reached out and selected a burgundy button-down shirt, a wool vest, and black dress pants.

As she stood in front of her mirror and got dressed, Izayoi couldn’t help but think that this might be the day that the case might break wide open. They were returning to the warehouse; they were going to follow Ryukotsusei. They were going to figure out what he was up to.

Hopefully, by the end of the day, the case would be cracked; the police could be called; and an assassination plot could be foiled.

So that she and Toga could...what? Move on with their lives? Together? Because _gods_ , she certainly hoped that was the case. 

If he would have her.

Which she was pretty sure that he would.

A sudden slam, followed by shouts, caused Izayoi to look towards the door. She heard more shouting from the washitsu, including Toga calling out to her, telling her not to come near (like she was going to listen to _that_?). She dashed over to her closet, reached into the back, and entered a combination on a safe that was hidden behind her long dresses. The lock clicked open, and Izayoi pulled out her handgun. She wasn’t exactly _licensed_ to carry it, per se, but PI work could get a little dicey sometimes, and there were moments that she was glad she had a little bit of extra protection. She grabbed the bullets (also in the safe), loaded the gun, and, keeping it close to her body as something made a dreadful crash in her washitsu, she slunk out of the bedroom.

The shouting was even louder, and without thinking—with only Toga’s safety on her mind—Izayoi ran forward, and nearly gasped at what she saw.

The room was full of smoke, and Izayoi immediately recognized the scent as some kind of poisonous powder. She coughed, and sputtered, and blinked her eyes wildly. As the smoke Toga—her magnificent, handsome inu youkai—was wrestling two massive men at once, while also wheezing and choking on the noxious fumes. The first she recognized from the warehouse; the man with the wild hair and wild eyes. He had jumped onto Toga’s back, and Toga reached back, grabbed him by the shoulders, and hurled him into the other man, who was built like a mountain and looked just as strong. Izayoi could only stand, and watch—she knew that getting in the way of a fighting youkai could mean her death, even if Toga didn’t want her to die.

“Want to go help him, don’t you?” hissed a voice in her ear. Strong arms wrapped around her, effectively holding her in place; another set of hands wrestled the gun from her grip and tossed it aside. “Now, watch, as your youkai lover is taken away, right before your eyes.” Izayoi’s neck was twisted around so she was face-to-face with her attacker; it was Bankotsu, and she struggled wildly in his arms, trying to get free. But Bankotsu was strong, and she couldn’t break free enough to waste him.

“Izayoi!” Toga howled, and as the other men piled onto him, Bakotsu tossed her across the room. Izayoi hit the wall with a thud and sank to the floor. When she struggled to her knees, Bankotsu stood over her, leering.

She saw Toga’s handsome face, twisted into a scream. She felt a dull thud on the side of her skull, and Izayoi saw the floor rushing to meet her face. 

Then, it all went black.

* * *

Izayoi rolled over and slowly blinked her eyes open. Her eyes swam, and she felt sick to her stomach. Her head...throbbed. She brought her hands up to her head; she felt a solid lump forming, above her right ear. She grunted, and dropped her hands to the tatami to push herself up to a seated position.

As her vision slowly came back into focus, she looked around the washitsu. It was...a mess. The chabudai was completely destroyed; there were scorch marks in her tatami; and the walls were scratched, and even cracked, in some places where something...or _someone_...had made impact.

Izayoi gasped, and then groaned at the pain in her head. _Toga_.

Events of the previous...minutes? Hours? How long had she been out, anyway?...started to come back to her in waves. The shouts. The crashes. The poison gas (to deter Toga’s extraordinary senses, Izayoi now realized). The men grappling with Toga. The man who…

Izayoi whirled around, looking for her gun. She spotted it easily: tossed against the space where the tatami and the wall met. Izayoi breathed a sigh of relief. At least Bankotsu had been smart enough to leave an illegal gun behind.

Her thoughts were getting clearer, and as they did, her mind immediately started to put together a plan for what to do next. 

The Shichinintai took Toga, but not her.

Which meant they did not know who she was.

Which meant Toga was being...followed? Or had Inukimi somehow known he was at the warehouse? 

Izayoi crawled over the gun, and picked it up. She put the safety on, and used the wall to pull herself to her feet. The room was still swimming a little, but at least her eyes were focusing better. She...had to find Toga. She...needed to get to him, and fast, because she knew that Inukimi took him, and wherever they were, she was most likely with him.

And that the Shichinintai had taken him? Izayoi leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, because she _knew_.

They were going to kill him.

Izayoi tucked her gun into the waistband of her pants, and tugged her vest down to hide it. She went back into the bedroom, opened her dresser drawer, and pulled out a small hunting knife, and tucked that into her pants pocket. She went to the bathroom next, and looked in the mirror. She turned her head to the side, and pulled apart the strands of her hair, to see down to her scalp. The lump was there, and tender, and Izayoi winced when the pads of her fingers brushed up against it. 

Normally, she’d put some ice on it, sit, relax. But today? She didn’t have the time. She opened the medicine cabinet, took out four ibuprofen and two scent blockers, and jammed all six pills into her mouth. She turned on the sink, cupped her hand, and ran the water until her hand was full. She gulped down the water, swallowed the pills, then leaned on the sink and took a couple of deep breaths. 

She could do this.

_She could do this_.

Izayoi looked up at herself in her mirror. She saw her eyes: brown, hard, determined. Tired. Resolved.

She pushed away from the counter, whirled around, and strode out the door. She walked down the hall, to the genkan, and pulled on her shoes and her leather jacket. She zipped it up, and looked around for Toga’s jacket. She didn’t want to waste time taking mass transit, and while it had...been awhile...since she’d driven a manual transmission, she was sure she could manage. 

She found his jacket in her closet, and rummaging around, she dug out his keys. She had no idea where he’d parked, but she at least knew what his car looked like, so if he was parked within a few blocks of the apartment, she would find it.

Izayoi took one last look around her apartment, sighed, and adjusted her shoulders.

She could do this. She could go get Toga.  
She could bring him back safely.  
And...she could bring Inukimi to justice.

* * *

A few blocks from the warehouse, Izayoi pulled Toga’s Supra into a parking space on a side street, away from the bustling main drag. She had thought about using a parking garage, but in case they needed to make a fast getaway, she knew that she needed to park the car someplace that, if they needed to jump in and go, they could. She was confident in Toga’s driving skills and her own speed, and she was pretty sure they would be able to get away.

She locked the car, tucked the keys away in her jacket pocket, and jogged down the street in the direction of the warehouse. Her heart was thumping, and her breathing was ragged. She paused outside a building about a block away from her destination. She needed to get herself under control. She needed her heart rate to slow; she needed her breathing to become regular. Her scent was blocked; she needed stealth on her side. 

As her body came back under control, Izayoi thought about what she was about to do. She was about to break into a warehouse to rescue the man...her client? The man she was attracted to? The man she’d had several intense (and _very good_ ) rounds of sex with the night before? The man...she was maybe falling in love with?

Izayoi scoffed. It was impossible. She couldn’t be falling for a man she had just met. 

It was _impossible_. 

And yet...from the moment he had graced her doorway with his sinful body; from the moment he had looked her up and down with his gleaming, golden eyes; and from the moment he had spoken to her for the first time, with that deep, rumbly voice that set her soul on fire....

_Fuck_. It was true. She was falling for him. 

And, while that was wonderful and amazing and also kind of terrifying? She knew....

She couldn’t let her guard down. She couldn’t pause in her steps. She couldn’t allow her developing feelings for him to cloud her instincts. Because, if anything, _because_ she was falling in love with Taisho Toga, she _needed_ all of her instincts intact, solid, unabating. 

Her breathing and her heart rate slowed, Izayoi made her way down the street towards the warehouse. She’d chosen sneakers, and she looked like a typical O-lady on her way to work, ready to change into her dress shoes as soon as she got to the office. But she wasn’t going to work; she was going to save the man she...had feelings for.

The warehouse came into view all too soon for Izayoi. She still wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do. But, she would rely on her instincts, let them drive her, and let them tell her the best way to proceed. She slunk around the building, careful to avoid the front door, in case one of the Shichinintai was there. She crept around to the back, to the conveyor belt opening; it didn’t seem like anyone was guarding there, so she snuck over to the belt and hopped up quietly, listening for any sounds. She could hear low voices, and cursed herself for not having hearing as good as Toga’s. There was a woman’s voice, which she figured was Inukimi’s, and then several male voices, one of which she recognized as Ryukotsusei. She heard a low, garbled moan, which she instantly knew was Toga’s, and the sound of his voice—the pain, the agony, the softness of the whine—caused Izayoi to leap into action.

She jumped through the opening in the warehouse, hitting the floor quietly in her sneakers. She pulled her gun from her waistband, took off the safety, and held it in front of her, arms straight out. Her steps were slow, careful, measured; she was looking for a path where she could proceed unseen. Her feet took her, again by instinct, along the wall, where she could blend in with the backdrop, behind the machines, the boxes, and the pieces of plastic still fluttering around. 

As she crept slowly closer to the open space in the warehouse where the voices were coming from, Izayoi paused. 

“I still say that we kill him now, Inukimi.” Ryukotsusei was speaking, and his voice had taken on an angry growl.

“Patience, anata.” Inukimi’s voice was silky and sugary sweet. “If we kill him now, we lose our ability to take over the company. You know what was supposed to happen tomorrow morning.”

“I still don’t understand why we have to wait,” Ryukotsusei retorted. “If we kill him now, the company still passes to Sesshomaru, regardless.”

“Yes, but there was paperwork to be signed tomorrow,” Inukimi responded, “that would have given me control until Sesshomaru is of age.”

“We’ve kidnapped your husband,” Ryukotsusei pointed out. “I don’t think he’s going to be signing any paperwork for you now.”

“He will if we threaten to kill the little hussy he’s been fooling around with,” Inukimi shot back. “I still can’t believe you didn’t think to bring her along.”

“You wanted us to bring Taisho alive.” Izayoi froze; it was Bankotsu. He sounded annoyed. “It wasn’t like that was easy. It took eight of Ren’s binding sutras to get him under control. I didn’t have the manpower to carry along some deadweight.”

“Still,” Inukimi huffed. “I want you to go and get her for me—you know where she is.” Izayoi heard the thumping of shoes against the concrete, then heard the door slide open and slam shut. Izayoi peeked her head out around the corner of the machine currently blocking her from view. What she saw nearly made her scream.

Toga was tied to a chair; his arms were wrapped around the back, his wrists restrained with what Izayoi could only assume were binding sutras...there was no way anyone would be able to restrain a youkai of his stature with anything less. Each leg was bound to the chair, and also with sutras. His head hung forward; his beautiful silver hair flowed about him limply. She could see that the sleeves of his shirt were tattered, and there were deep gashes on his arms. She tried not to suck in a breath from fear, but _goddammit_ , that was hard.

Izayoi considered her options, which were admittedly few. They didn’t know where she was, or _who_ she was, so clearly Inukimi had not figured out Toga had hired a PI. That worked in her favor. Also, because they had no idea who she was, they were also clearly not expecting that she would follow them. Also a point in her favor. She could wait it out, see what they planned to do with him, or…

She could _do_ something.

Izayoi aimed her gun, and took several steps forward. Ryukotsusei was standing over Toga; in the moments Izayoi had been weighing her options, Ryukotsusei had grabbed Toga’s hair and jerked his hand back so that Toga’s face was tilted up towards his. Ryokutsusei was growling; Toga’s face was bloodied and bruised, but even from her distance, Izayoi could see his eyes glinting. She knew: if she could just get him free? He was gonna go ballistic.

She took a few steps forward; Ryukotsusei looked up, saw her coming out of the shadows, said, “What the fuck—” but didn’t finish that sentence because, in that moment, Izayoi fired.

The bullet ripped through the shoulder of the arm that was holding Toga’s head back; Ryukotsusei howled and dropped Toga, then staggered backwards in pain. Inukimi rushed to his side, screaming as blood began to pour from the wound; Izayoi ran forward to Toga’s side.

Gods, he was a mess. Izayoi now allowed her to suck in that breath. 

“Iza—Izayoi?” he asked confusedly. “What...what are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you; what does it look like?” she said briskly as she took out her knife and hurriedly made quick work of the sutras. Toga grunted as he tore first his legs through the sutras, then his hands. He rubbed his wrists painfully; Izayoi winced when she saw the burn marks searing them from where the sutras had scalded his skin. She let out a protective growl of her own as Toga pushed her behind him. 

“Toga.”

“No.” His voice was fierce and he held her firmly behind him. “You stay out of this, Izayoi. Or…”

“Or what?” Inukimi had helped Ryukotsusei to his feet; her eyes flashed ice blue and her fangs were bared, but it was Ryukotsusei who spoke. “What will you do, Toga? With your little whore here.”

“She’s not my whore, Ryu,” Toga spat.

“How _dare_ you use your nickname for me as you protect... _that_ ,” he hissed. “I can’t believe you, Toga. I thought you were _better_ than to take a human mistress.”

“She’s not my mistress, either,” Toga snapped. “As if you were one to talk, since you’re the one fucking my wife.”

“Not like you would know what that’s like, Toga,” Ryukotsusei shot back. “How long has it been...since Sesshomaru? She was right to have a wandering eye, as well as...other things.”

“What...what does that mean?” Toga’s voice was deadly quiet; Izayoi could practically feel the rage radiating off his body.

“Only that…” Ryukotsusei cracked his claws menacingly. “After tonight, I won’t just have your wife. I’ll have your company, too.”

Toga roared, and, shaking free of Izayoi’s grip, launched himself at Ryukotsusei. Izayoi watched, fascinated and horrified, as his body began to transform as he moved. His face became covered with white fur; his nose became a long, furry snout; his body grew long and lithe, the same white fur bursting through his clothes and spreading down his body. By the time he reached Ryukotsusei, he had transformed into a giant dog. 

Toga landed on Ryukotsusei, his jaws locked onto the dragon youkai’s neck. The two fell backwards with a mighty crash; Izayoi saw that Ryukotsusei was trying to transform, but was having trouble with Toga on top of him. Toga was growling, shaking Ryukotsusei’s neck viciously. Ryukotsusei pushed his hands into Toga’s chest and shoved as hard as he could; at same time, he shot his head forward and rammed it into Toga’s eye. Toga howled, and dropped Ryukotsusei, who scrambled backwards and immediately began to transform as well. His body elongated, and became covered with silver-blue, shimmery scales. His arms sprouted wings, and his body grew a long, shining tail. Ryukotsusei bellowed, and Toga roared, and the two youkai hurled themselves at each other. 

Izayoi scrambled back, her back hitting the wall. She had never seen two massive youkai go at it like this. She’d seen youkai fights in her life, sure, but _nothing_ like this. Toga was magnificent; his body was beautiful, and her breath caught. He and Ryukotsusei were brawling; Toga was snapping his jaws at the dragon youkai, who was using his tail as a weapon. Toga used his mighty paws to retaliate, but Ryukotsusei parried with his wings and then went after Toga’s neck with his claws. He caught Toga flush on the shoulder, who howled and jumped back, the blood gushing down, matting his beautiful fur. Immediately Toga went for him again—this time for the throat—and the two of them grappled, and thrashed about the warehouse, knocking over machines, the sound of metal on metal clanging, claws scraping against the concrete floor. 

And so they went, around and around, destroying the insides of the warehouse; Izayoi pressed against one wall, Inukimi watching with bored interest from another side of the room. The two youkai howled and yelped and growled, their bodies flying, the concrete of the walls and the floor cracking under their weight and their strength. The battle raged on, and the two seemed fairly evenly matched, until Ryukotsusei saw Izayoi, huddled against the wall, trying to stay out of the way, and decided to make a play for her. Toga saw his change in direction, and his eyes flared, a brilliant ruby red, and he flew after Ryukotsusei, catching him around the throat from behind, and launching him back towards the far wall of the warehouse. The dragon youkai flew through several giant machines, and hit the wall hard, before sinking to the ground, a massive crater left where he had hit. Izayoi watched as Ryukotsusei shimmered back to himself, his clothing still (relatively) intact; his neck was twisted at an ugly angle, and he was bleeding profusely from one ear.

Toga turned to Izayoi, his great, golden eyes blinking in concern. She reached out and placed a hand on his nose; his eyes closed as he bowed his head to her. His fur was soft under her touch; she found that she _liked_ this form of his, very much. He blinked his eyes open, and Izayoi found herself completely captivated by him. She leaned forward, intending to replace her hand with her lips.

But Toga jerked away, bellowing in pain and falling to his side. There, standing next to him, was Inukimi, her claws elongated, a grim, satisfied smile on her face. 

“There, there,” she murmured, looking down at her husband, “I supposed that if Ryukotsusei couldn’t kill you, it’s my job.”

“Inukimi!” Izayoi screamed, rushing to Toga’s side. The place where Inukimi had wounded him was bleeding heavily; there were five ugly gashes in his side, and it was impossible for Izayoi to put pressure on all the wounds. Toga whimpered, and closed his eyes; his body, like Ryukotsusei’s, slowly shimmered back to normal. The place where Inukimi had struck him was completely torn apart, from his shirt down to the skin. Izayoi could see bone, and she blanched, her eyes filling with tears.

“He’s quite bad,” Inukimi commented lightly, watching Izayoi and Toga together. “In fact, I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Izayoi got to her feet. “Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why would you _do_ all of this?”

Inukimi laughed. “Simple,” she replied. “Control. I did it for control. Toga dies, Sesshomaru inherits, and I get to run the company through him. Our son is my pet, you know.” When Izayoi scoffed, Inukimi snarled softly. “He’s not interested in running an empire,” she added. “He would have left it to me. Ryukotsusei, on the other hand…” She nodded over at the dragon youkai, who was still unconscious and bleeding. “I had him eating out of my hand. He was so sure that our killing Toga would mean that he and I would marry. Which we would have, of course, and then his ‘sudden’ death would have meant that I control both companies.”

Izayoi gasped. “Are you insane?” she asked. “You know that’s like, the oldest trick in the book. You would have been caught, so easily.”

“Human law doesn’t apply to youkai, dear,” Inukimi scoffed, her face hardening. “I have been nothing but a bargaining chip my whole life. My family’s company was seen as having more worth than me. The marriage to Toga was a business arrangement between our families; I had no say in who I would marry. And even if I found my soulmate, then the two of us would have been stuck in this awful, loveless marriage.” She looked hard at Izayoi. “You look like an independent woman, dear,” she said. “This was my chance to become one, too.”

“You didn’t have to try and execute a _murder plot_ against your husband to win your independence!” Izayoi shot back. “Divorce is an option.”

“Not for youkai,” Inukimi snapped. “Youkai marry and mate for life. There’s no backing out for us; no way for us to get around youkai law. So we stay, in loveless marriages, hoping our soulmate comes along. And I’ve been alive a long time and still haven’t found mine. So who’s to say that I ever will.” Her ice-blue eyes glinted. “I need this,” she said. “More than I need either of them. And certainly more than I need you.”

Inukimi soared toward Izayoi in the moment, her claws outstretched and her fangs bared. Izayoi quickly pulled out her gun in defense and shot—once, twice, three times—and Inukimi fell to the ground with a screeching howl that seared Izayoi’s ears. She stepped forward, and Inukimi was on the ground, squirming, clutching her midsection. Izayoi had shot her in the stomach twice, and the heart once.

“You cannot earn your independence on the backs of others, Inukimi,” Izayoi whispered. “You need to be able to earn it yourself, free and clear. The first way—your way—is easy, but not fulfilling. Even if you had done it, you would have lived with the guilt of your actions all your life. You should have opted for the other path.”

Inukimi opened her eyes; they were pale and red-rimmed. Her breaths came harshly. “I—regret nothing,” she murmured, her voice gurgly and broken. Izayoi stood over her, watching as Inukimi breathed her last breath, then leaned down and gently closed her eyes. She stood up, said a quick prayer, and turned to Toga.

“Toga,” she cried, and rushed back to his side. She knelt down and pulled his head into her lap, stroking his hair tenderly. “Toga,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Or that we didn’t think about protecting you better.” The tears slipped down her nose and onto his face, and Toga opened his eyes.

“Izayoi,” he breathed. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and expectant. He offered her the tiniest of smiles.

“You…smell nice.”

Izayoi let out a cry of relief, leaned forward, and kissed him, over, and over, and over.

* * *

“You have to eat, Toga,” Izayoi said impatiently. “The doctors said you could only be released if I made sure that you eat.”

“Keh,” he replied carelessly. “I’m not gonna eat that.”

“But I made it for you!” she retorted, pushing the bowl of miso soup towards him. “You _have_ to eat it!”

Toga pursed his lips and turned his head; Izayoi set the bowl down on the tatami and crawled onto the futon with him. She straddled his hips with her own, and turned his face back to hers with a gentle push of her fingers.

“Hey,” she said softly, “you need to eat. You need to regain your strength.”

Toga leaned forward and captured her lips with his, his arms wrapping around her and holding her closely. “You’re all the food I need to recover, love,” he whispered against her lips.

After the incident at the warehouse, the plot to assassinate Taisho Toga had come out. It of course made all the papers, and Toga had to leave the youkai hospital he’d been admitted to after the incident in secret. He and Izayoi decided that he would continue his recovery with her; his son, Sesshomaru, was too distraught over his mother’s infidelity, her duplicitousness, and her death to talk to his father at the moment anyway, so Toga reasoned that it was better for him to remain scarce, at least for a few days, until the wounds he’d received from Inukimi healed more. Ryukotsusei was in the hospital still, and when he got out, he would be going right to jail, awaiting trial for conspiracy, kidnapping, and attempted murder. While Inukimi was right that youkai lived by their own set of laws, when those laws were broken, the punishments tended to be vicious.

But for now, in her little apartment, Izayoi and Toga could enjoy some time alone—time that they knew would be short, because as soon as he returned home, Izayoi would be following him shortly thereafter.

And right into the spotlight.  
Which she was totally prepared to do.

“You need more than me, Toga,” Izayoi whispered back, licking his lips and enjoying the plaintive whine that escaped from his mouth. He shook his head and rubbed his nose affectionately against hers. 

“How could I ever need anyone else?” he asked her. “You’ll all that I’ll ever need. You’re...you’re everything, Izayoi,” he added. “You saved me, you know. In more ways than one.”

Izayoi scoffed. “You saved me, too, you know,” she told him affectionately, rubbing noses right back. “I thought I’d be alone forever, and then you walked into my office that day, wearing that suit, and looking like you owned the place. Who would have guessed it would be the start of the first real romance I’ve ever had?”

Toga pressed her to him more tightly. “First real romance?” he said. “Oh, Izayoi, you’re more than a romance.” His voice dropped and grew husky; his eyes glowed like molten lava. “I love you,” he said. “More than I’ve loved anything or anyone. I would have given it all up to protect you, you know.”

Izayoi offered him a light kiss, which he accepted eagerly. “I know,” she whispered, tracing the stripe on his left cheek with her fingers. “But you don’t need to. Because I love you, too, and you and I? We’re in this forever…

“ _Mate._ ”


End file.
